EXCHANGE 


ExeH 


^T^ 


irf- 


I 


1 


THE    EARLY    LIFE 


OF 


SAMUEL    ROGERS 


CLAYDEN 


AUTHOR    OF 
'SAMUEL  SHARPE,  EGYPTOLOGIST  AND  TRANSLATOR  OF  THE  BIBLE* 


o      }    e>   ■    }    I 


BOSTON 

ROBERTS     BROTHERS 

1888 


&XCHANQB 

janfbetsfts  ^xtsn: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge. 


•  •  •    I 

•  •  •    •! 

•  •  •    •  < 

»  •  ••    < 


PREFACE, 


The  narrative  of  Eogers's  early  life  covers  a  period  of 
forty  years,  and  naturally  ends  with  his  settlement 
in  the  celebrated  house  in  St.  James's  Place.  Another 
period  of  more  than  fifty  years,  in  which  he  was  one 
of  the  chief  figures  in  EngHsh  society,  remains  to  be 
dealt  with  in  another  volume.  I  have  ample  materials 
for  this  work  in  the  shape  of  letters  from  many  of 
Eogers's  eminent  contemporaries,  but  I  shall  esteem  it 
as  a  great  favor  if  those  who  possess  letters  by  Eogers 
himself  will  let  me  have  copies  of  them. 

The  materials  for  Eogers's  life  were  placed  in  my 
hands  by  Miss  Sharpe  of  32  Highbury  Place,  and  Mrs. 
William  Sharpe  of  1  Highbury  Terrace,  the  representa- 
tives of  his  nephews  and  executors,  —  the  late  Mr. 
Samuel  Sharpe  and  the  late  Mr.  William  Sharpe ;  and 
I  am  deeply  indebted  to  them  for  the  generous  trust 
they  have  placed  in  my  discretion.     For  the  use  made 

ivi9?080 


VI  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

of  letters  and  diaries  I  am  solely  responsible.  I  wish 
further  to  express  my  cordial  thanks  to  Mrs.  Drum- 
mond  of  Fredley  and  of  18  Hyde  Park  Gardens,  for  the 
valuable  and  interesting  letters  of  Eichard  Sharp. 

P.  W.  CLAYDEN. 
13  Tavistock  Squaee,  London: 
November,  1887. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  1. 

PAOB 

Stoke  Newington.  —  Rogers's   Ancestors.  —  Dr.    Price.  —  Mrs. 
Rogers.  —  Her  Letters.  —  Her  Character 1 


CHAPTER    II. 

Rogers's  Boyhood  and  Schoolmasters.  —  His  Father.  — William 
Maltby.  — Dr.  Price  and  the  Boys.  —  Thomas  Rogers's  Poli- 
tics.—  Dr.  Price's  Influence.  —  Samuel  Rogers  and  the 
Pulpit.  —  The  Coventry  Election.  —  Letters  from  Thomas 
Rogers.  —  Samuel  Rogers  at  Home 24 


CHAPTER   III. 

Early  Writings.  — '  The  Scribbler.'  —  *  Vintage  of  Burgundy.' 
—  *  Ode  to  Superstition.'  —  Smaller  Poems 46 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Bank  Partnership.  —  Hackney  College. — Dr.  Kippis  one 
of  his  Literary  Sponsors. — Helen  Maria  Williams  and 
the  Coquerels.  —  Mrs.  Barbauld. — Joanna  Baillie.  —  Death 
of  Thomas  Rogers,  junior,  —  Letters  from  Thomas  Rogers, 
senior.  —  Visit  to  Edinburgh.  —  Adam  Smith,  Robertson, 
H.  Mackenzie.  —  The  Piozzis.  —  Tour  through  Scotland. — 
Burns.  —  Henry  Mackenzie  and  his  works.  —  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  and  Burke 65 


Yiii  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 


CHAPTER  V. 

PAGB 

English  feeling  about  France  in  1789  and  1790.  — Words- 
worth, Coleridge,  Adams.  —  Diary  in  Revolutionary  Paris. 

—  Visits  to  Lafayette,  De  Chatelet,  De  Liancourt,  the  Due 
de  Rochefoucauld,  etc.  —  National  Assembly,  Jacobin  Club. 

—  The  Theatres.  —  The  Kmg  and  Queen.  —  The  Populace. 

—  Journey  homewards  through  Belgium  and  Flanders.— 

Dr.  John  Moore,  father  of  Sir  John  and  Sir  Graham  Moore      101 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Helen  Williams.  —  Conversation  at  her  house. —  Merry  and 
the  Delia  Cruscans.  —  Journey  through  Wales,  1791.  —  Mrs. 
Barbauld's  Letter.  —  Visit  to  Dr.  Parr,  1793 142 

CHAPTER  VII. 

'The  Pleasures  of  Memory.' —  Letter  of  Criticism  from  Dr. 
Parr;  Notes.  —  Letter  of  Gilpin.  —  Hay  ward's  Criticism.— 
Estimate  of  the  Poem 184 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

Diary  of  literary  visits,  parties,  etc.  —  Dinners  with  Parr, 
Cumberland.  —  Fox,  Sheridan,  and  Pamela,  at  Stone's. — 
R.  Sharp.  —  Summer  journey  to  New  Forest,  etc.  —  Gilpin. 

—  Meetings  of  Club.  —  Cooper,  Priestley,  Tuffin,  Stothard, 
Franklin,  etc. — Eumelean  Club. — Arthur  Murphy.  —  His 
stories  of  Foote  and  Garrick 210 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Death  of  Rogers's  Father.  —  Richard  Sharp.  —  Rogers  deciding 
on  a  West-end  life.  — R.  Cumberland,  R.  Merry,  T.  Cooper. 

—  Priestley's  exile.  —  Home  Tooke's  Trial.  —  William 
Stone's  Trial.  —  Mrs.  Siddons  and  her  Epilogue.  —  Dr. 
Moore.  —  Early  Correspondence  with  Richard  Sharp. — 
Rogers's  Commonplace  Book.  —  Dr.  Johnson  and  Dr.  Priest- 
ley.—'My  Club.'— Rogers  and  Polwhele 239 


CONTENTS.  ix 


CHAPTER  X. 

PAQI 

State  of  the  Country  in  1795-96.  —  Reaction  in  Parliament.  — 
Westminster  Election,  1796.  —  Dr.  Moore  and  his  sons.  — 
Rogers's  Domestic  Relations.  —  Correspondence  with  R. 
Sharp.  —  Brighton  in  1797.  —  Lady  Jersey.  —  A  Romance 
without  a  denouement.  —  Brighton  in  1798.  —  Sarah  Rogers       278 


CHAPTER  XL 

An  Epistle  to  a  Friend.'  —  Letters  from  Dr.  Warton.  —  W. 
Gilpin.  —  Criticisms  and  changes  in  the  poem.  —  Mr.  Hay- 
ward's  criticism.  —  Rogers  and  Fox,  Erskine. — Political 
Warfare.  —  The  Fox  Banquet,  1798.  —  The  Duke  of  Nor- 
folk. —  Prosecution  of  Gilbert  Wakefield.  —  Parr  and  Mack- 
intosh   


CHAPTER  XII. 

The  Pursuits  of  Literature.'  —  A  winter  at  Exmouth.  —  Classi- 
cal Reading.  —  George  Steevens.  —  Jackson  of  Exeter.  — 
Letters  to  Richard  Sharp.  —  Dr.  Moore's  '  Mordaunt.'  — 
Dr.  Moore's  death. — Richard  Sharp  and  Fredley. — Brighton 
in  1801      


CHAPTER  XIII. 

'  The  King  of  Clubs.'  — *  The  Bachelor.' —  Rogers  Building.— 
Paris  in  1802.  —  Letters  to  Henry  Rogers,  Maria  Sharpe, 
Mrs.  Greg.  —  Fox  and  Rogers  in  Paris.  —  Fox  and  Mackin- 
tosh.—  Rogers's  new  House.  —  His  final  Settlement  in  St. 
James's  Place 370 


INDEX 


THE   EAELT   LrF:&: '■•:;• 


OF 


SAMUEL    ROGERS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Stoke  Newington.  —  Rogers's  Ancestors.  —  Dr.  Price.  —  Mrs.  Rogers.  — 
Her  Letters.  —  Her  Character. 

In  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  the  suburban 
village  of  Stoke  Newington  contained  a  group  of  friendly 
households,  which  embraced  many  persons  afterwards 
known  in  the  larger  world.  The  pretty  village  green, 
then  a  piece  of  open  grass  with  a  few  ancient  elms  and 
quaint  Elizabethan  houses  round  it,  was  a  centre  of 
political  and  religious  Liberalism.  A  meeting-house  of 
the  English  Presbyterian  dissent  had  been  built  there 
in  1708,  and  there  the  Rev.  Charles  Morton,  the  silenced 
rector  of  Blissland,  in  Cornwall,  —  Defoe's  teacher,  —  had 
kept  his  school.  In  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  Samuel  Harris,  an  East  India  merchant,  who 
had  married  a  daughter  of  Queen  Mary's  physician.  Dr. 
Coxe,  lived  in  one  of  the  houses  on  the  Green ;  and 
in  1731  their  only  daughter,  Mary  Harris,  —  a  cousin  of 
William  Coxe,  the  author  of  the  ^  History  of  the  House 
of  Austria,'  —  married  Daniel  Radford,  a  warehouseman 
in  Cheapside.  Daniel  Radford  had  come  to  London  from 
Chester  with  a  capital  of  a  thousand  pounds,  with  which 
he   had   entered   into   partnership   with   Mr.    Obadiah 


2  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Wickes.  He  was  the  son  of  Samuel  Eadford,  a  linen- 
draper  at  Chester,  and  of  Eleanor  his  wife,  third  daughter 
of  the  Kev.  Philip  Henry,  one  of  the  most  eminent  of 
'.  thQ  cjl^rgj; -vf  1k)  had  been  ejected  on  the  passing  of  the 
,.*Ap5<)^  pnifpimity  in  1662.  Philip  Henry  was  the  son 
.pf.on,^  gf  yie,  pages  of  Charles  I.  He  was  born  in  the 
'/j)^lacejaj;  WhJCeliall,  had  been  a  playfellow  of  the  Prince 
bf*'WdlW'&.fid'£he  Duke  of  York,  had  seen  the  king 
beheaded,  and  was  in  politics  a  Cavalier.  His  mother 
inclined  to  the  teaching  of  the  Presbyterian  divines,  and 
the  son,  after  leaving  Westminster  School,  and  taking 
his  degree  at  Oxford,  had  adhered  to  the  same  side  in 
religious  matters,  and  had  entered  the  Church  during  the 
Protectorate  by  Presbyterian  ordination.  Daniel  Ead- 
ford, his  grandson,  inherited  the  serious  disposition  and 
the  religious  principles  of  his  grandfather.  Daniel's 
father  and  mother,  the  Chester  linen-draper  and  his  wife, 
had  died  early,  and  Daniel  was  brought  up  by  his  ma- 
ternal uncle,  the  Eev.  Matthew  Henry,  the  author  of 
the  celebrated  Commentary  on  the  Bible.  Daniel  Ead- 
ford's  Diary  shows  the  influence  of  this  ancestry  and 
training.  He  was  an  introspective  person,  and  religious 
feeling  tinged  his  life.  He  puts  on  record,  sometimes 
day  by  day,  sometimes  only  year  by  year,  not  the  day's 
events  nor  the  year's  history,  but  the  serious  reflections 
which  the  flight  of  time  or  the  death  of  friends,  or  fam- 
ily joys  and  troubles,  suggested  to  a  religious  mind.  A 
few  events  of  personal  and  family  interest  are  noted  here 
and  there,  but  only  for  the  sake  of  recording  some  pious 
resolution,  or  of  writing  down  some  aspiration  which 
had  arisen  out  of  them.  The  Journal  begins  in  March, 
1715,  with  an  extract  from  a  devotional  book,  and  ends 
in  June,  1767,  less  than  four  months  before  his  death, 
with  the  expression  of  the  hope  that  *  though  I  shall  not 
die  a  profitable  servant,  yet  I  hope  to  die  a  pardoned  sin- 
ner through  Jesus  Christ.'    In  all  the  two-and-fifty  years 


HIS  MATERNAX  GRANDFATHER.  3 

there  is  only  one  reference  to  a  public  events  and  that  is 
an  earthquake,^  which  suggested  a  religious  reflection  to 
his  mind. 

Daniel  Kadford  was  born  on  the  24th  of  May,  1691, 
and  died  on  the  14th  of  October,  1767,  having  completed 
his  seventy-sixth  year  on  the  4th  of  June,  to  which  the 
change  of  style  had  transferred  his  birthday.  He  had 
settled  at  Newington  Green  on  his  marriage  in  1731,  had 
lived  there  all  the  rest  of  his  life,  and  there  his  only  child 
Mary  had  been  born.  With  Philip  Henry  for  his  grand- 
father, and  Matthew  Henry,  the  commentator,  for  his 
uncle,  it  was  natural  that  Daniel  Eadford  should  connect 
himself  with  the  small  Presbyterian  congregation  at  the 
chapel  on  the  Green.  The  minister  was  Mr.  Hoyle ;  but 
a  man  destined  to  European  renown,  and  worthy  of  it, 
was  living  near,  and  gave  occasional  help.  This  was 
Mr.  (afterwards  Dr.)  Kichard  Price,  who  became  preacher 
to  the  congregation  in  1758.  Daniel  Radford  and  his 
daughter  —  his  wife  had  died  in  1738,  when  Mary  was 
scarcely  three  years  old — were  thus  brought  into  contact 
with  one  of  the  most  acute  and  enlightened  minds  the 
eighteenth  century  produced,  with  the  best  intellectual 
and  social  results  to  their  connections  and  descendants. 

1  This  entry  in  the  Diary  is  as  follows  :  *  In  London,  on  Thursday, 
8th  February,  1749,  betwixt  twelve  and  one  o'clock  at  noon,  we  were 
surprised  greatly  by  the  shock  of  an  earthquake  which  was  felt  in  the 
city  and  the  country  round  about  it.  I  happened  to  be  shaving  then  in 
the  counting-house,  and  I  asked  the  barber  what  the  noise  and  shaking 
was.  He  said  he  believed  somebody  had  fallen  down  above-stairs,  for 
indeed  it  felt  as  if  something  heavy  was  fallen  down.  I  thought  it  felt 
as  if  the  house  had  given  way,  and  so  most  i)eople  indeed  did,  that 
were  in  houses.  But,  thanks  be  to  God  !  it  did  very  little  damage 
anywhere  as  I  heard  of,  and  it  was  over  almost  as  soon  as  one  felt  it. 
And,  alas  !  too  much  so  has  been  the  remembrance  of  the  thing  itself 
among  us.  But  shall  I  not  fear  always  before,  and  stand  in  awe  of, 
this  great  and  holy  Lord  God,  who  can,  whenever  He  pleases,  make  the 
earth  shake,  with  the  foundations  thereof  ? ' 


4  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  HOGERS. 

Daniel  Kadford  was  treasurer  to  the  congregation,  and 
at  his  death  left  a  hundred  pounds  towards  the  augmen- 
tation of  the  salary  of  the  minister. 

The  little  group  of  people  among  whom  the  Eadfords 
lived  was  Puritan  by  ancestry  and  association,  in  full 
sympathy  with  the  Whig  party  in  politics,  and  inclined 
to  latitudinarian  opinions  on  theological  questions.  In 
tlie  sixth  decade  of  the  century  there  came  into  it  a 
young  man  of  altogether  different  birth  and  training. 
In  Daniel  Eadford's  Diary  there  is  the  record  of  the 
deaths  of  his  two  partners :  Mr.  Obadiah  Wickes,  the 
father,  in  1748,  and  Mr.  John  Wickes,  the  son,  in  1750. 
On  the  1st  of  January,  1753,  he  writes  that  he  is  again 
in  some  concern  about  a  new  co-partnership  into  which 
he  has  entered  with  Mr.  Eogers.  This  was  Thomas 
Rogers,  a  glass  manufacturer  of  Stourbridge,  whose  only 
son  afterwards  removed  to  London  to  take  part  in  the 
business  in  which  his  father  had  thus  become  a  partner. 
Thomas  Eogers  lived  at  a  house  called  ^The  Hill,'  in 
the  parish  of  Old  Swinford,  and  his  name  had  been  long 
associated  with  the  manufacturing  industry  of  Stour- 
bridge. The  earliest  record  of  the  family  is  that  the  will 
of  Thomas  Eogers  the  elder,  of  Amblesant,  yeoman,  was 
proved  on  the  27th  of  June,  1681,  by  Anne,  his  widow 
and  sole  executrix.  This  Thomas  Eogers  is  described  as 
a  Welshman,  and  an  eminent  dealer  in  glass,  in  Holloway 
End,  Stourbridge.  He  had  married  the  daughter  of  M. 
Tyttery  of  Nantes,  in  Lorraine,  and  left  two  sons,  Thomas 
and  James,  and  a  daughter,  Sarah.  This  second  Thomas 
Eogers  had  a  half  share  in  the  business,  and  was  appar- 
ently the  father  of  Thomas  Eogers  of  ^The  Hill,'  the 
partner  of  Daniel  Eadford.  Thomas  Eogers  of  *The 
Hill '  —  the  grandson  of  the  Welshman  who  had  married 
the  Frenchwoman,  and  the  grandfather  of  Samuel  Eogers 
—  was  a  person  of  much  influence  and  consideration  in 
the  town  and  county.     He  had  married  a  daughter  of 


HIS  FATHER.  6 

Eichard  Knight  of  Downton ;  and  Eichard  Payne  Knight, 
the  antiquary,  and  Thomas  Andrew  Knight,  the  writer 
on  horticulture,  were  his  nephews.  He  was  a  Tory  of  the 
old  school,  and  lived  on  excellent  terms  with  the  Tory 
gentry  of  the  county.  In  the  picturesque  and  well-kept 
churchyard  of  Old  Swinford  there  are  still  memorials  of 
the  Eogers  family ;  and 

*  Yon  old  mansion  frowning  through  the  trees,' 

of  which  Samuel  Eogers  speaks  in  ^The  Pleasures  of 
Memory,'  was  in  all  probability  the  house  of  Thomas 
Eogers,  his  grandfather,  which  was  not  far  from  the 
church.  A  few  miles  off  was  ^The  Leasowes,'  where 
Shenstone  lived,  and  where  he  died  in  the  year  in  which 
Samuel  Eogers  was  born.  Close  at  hand,  at  Hagley, 
was  George  Lyttelton,  the  friend  of  Pope,  the  patron  of 
Thomson,  the  poet  of  ^  Blenheim '  and  ^  The  Progress  of 
Love  ; '  afterwards,  author  of  '  Dialogues  of  the  Dead,'  a 
Tory  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  and  a  peer.  Farther 
off,  on  the  other  side  of  Stourbridge,  dwelt  the  Earl  of 
Stamford  and  Warrington,  at  Enville ;  and  round  about 
were  the  houses  of  many  other  country  gentlemen  with 
most  of  whom  hatred  of  the  Whigs  was  the  chief  public 
passion  and  virtue.  Such  was  the  circle  in  which,  in 
the  second  quarter  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  elder 
Thomas  Eogers  lived  and  Thomas  Eogers  the  younger 
was  brought  up. 

There  is  no  record  of  the  date  at  which  Thomas 
Eogers  the  younger  removed  to  London.  He  was  proba- 
bly just  about  of  age  when  he  left  the  Tory  atmosphere 
of  the  country  house  in  Worcestershire,  and  plunged 
into  the  entirely  different  moral  and  social  conditions 
and  influences  of  Stoke  Newington.  It  is  evident  that 
he  soon  won  the  esteem  of  his  father's  partner,  for  in 
1760  he  was  married  to  Daniel  Eadford's  only  daugh- 
ter, Mary.     The  wedding  took  place  at  Islington  parish 


6  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

church  on  the  27th  of  March,  1760;  and  on  the  next 
New  Year's  Day  Thomas  Rogers  joined  his  father  and 
father-in-law  in  the  partnership,  the  latter  advancing 
him  £2,000  to  make  up  his  share  of  the  stock-in-trade. 
Thomas  Eogers  yielded  quickly  and  fully  to  the  new 
influences  around  him.  As  soon  as  we  get  any  glimpse 
of  his  opinions  we  find  him  to  be  in  full  sympathy  with 
the  political  and  religious  Liberalism  of  his  wife's  family 
and  friends.  He  was  a  good  man  of  business,  and  pros- 
pered in  his  way.  In  1765  he  joined  George  and  Thomas 
Welch,  who  were  bankers  in  Cornhill,  and  the  firm  there- 
after carried  on  the  business  under  the  style  of  Welch  & 
Rogers.  Meanwhile  a  family  was  fast  growing  up  around 
him.  His  eldest  son,  Daniel,  named  after  his  father-in- 
law,  was  born  on  the  3d  of  January,  1761 ;  about  Christ- 
mas in  the  same  year  a  second  son,  Thomas,  was  born ; 
and  a  year  and  a  half  later,  on  the  30th  of  July,  1763, 
the  third  son,  who  was  to  outlive  every  member  of  the 
family,  was  born,  and  called  Samuel  after  his  mother's 
grandfather,  Samuel  Harris.  Other  children  followed 
with  nearly  equal  rapidity:  Martha,  afterwards  Mrs. 
John  Towgood,  in  1765 ;  Mary  in  1766 ;  Paul  in  1768 ; 
another  daughter,  who  lived  but  a  day,  and  was  never 
named,  in  1770 ;  Maria  (afterwards  Mrs.  Sutton  Sharpe) 
in  1771 ;  Sarah  (the  Miss  Rogers  who  lived  to  within 
a  year  of  Samuel,  and  was  all  through  her  life  closely 
associated  with  him)  in  1772 ;  Henry  (the  kind  and 
thoughtful  friend  of  his  nephews  and  nieces)  in  1774; 
and  Mary  Radford  in  1776.  Of  these  children  three  — 
Mary,  Paul,  and  Mary  Radford  —  died  in  infancy,  and 
Thomas  died  in  1788,  in  his  twenty-seventh  year.  Six 
saw  the  nineteenth  century:  Maria  dying  in  1806; 
Daniel,  on  whose  death  Charles  Lamb  wrote  a  Sonnet, 
in  1829;  Henry  in  1832,  Martha  in  1837,  while  Sarah 
lived  on  till  January,  1855,  and  Samuel  till  December 
in  the  same  yeai-.    These  two  were  thus  the  only  long- 


HIS  RELATIONS  WITH  DR.  PRICE.  7 

lived  members  of  a  family,  the  father  and  mother  of 
which  died  comparatively  young,  and  of  which  only  one 
other  member  reached  the  age  of  threescore  and  ten. 

The  charm  of  Dr.  Price's  character  exerted  a  con- 
siderable influence  on  Thomas  Eogers  and  his  family. 
Dr.  Price  lived  close  by,  and  a  great  friendship  sprang 
up  between  him  and  the  Rogerses.  A  weekly  supping 
club  was  established  which  met  at  the  houses  of  Dr. 
Price,  Thomas  Rogers,  and  Mr.  Burgh  in  turns.  These 
three,  with  Mr.  Thoresby,  the  liberal  and  learned  rector 
of  Stoke  Newington,  were  the  chief  members  of  the  club, 
and  at  one  of  its  suppers  Dr.  Price  and  Dr.  Priestley 
were  afterwards  introduced  to  each  other  by  Dr.  Benson. 
Mr.  Burgh  was  a  schoolmaster,  who  kept  a  boarding- 
school  at  Newington  Green,  and  for  a  time  acted  as 
tutor  to  Samuel  Eogers  and  his  brothers.  He  was  a 
man  of  acute  mind,  who  wrote  a  work  entitled  ^Political 
Disquisitions,'  but  was  best  known  as  the  author  of  a 
book  'On  the  Dignity  of  Human  Nature.'  Dr.  Price 
was  as  great  a  favorite  with  the  boys  as  he  was  with 
their  parents.  They  not  only  listened  to  his  sermons 
on  Sunday  afternoons,  but  enjoyed  his  sympathy  during 
the  week,  in  their  lessons  and  even  in  their  games. 
Samuel  Rogers  spoke  of  him  in  after-years  with  the 
most  sincere  affection.  He  would  go  in  from  his  study 
in  his  dressing-gown  to  spend  the  evening  with  the 
family,  and  the  children  never  forgot  the  impression  his 
conversation  made  upon  them.  ^He  would  talk  and 
read  the  Bible  to  us,'  said  Rogers  in  after-years,  '  till  he 
sent  us  to  bed  in  a  frame  of  mind  as  heavenly  as  his 
own.'  At  other  times  he  would  take  the  boys  and  girls 
to  his  house  and  show  them  scientific  experiments.  The 
Equitable  Assurance  Society,  in  recognition  of  his  ser- 
vices in  the  publication  of  his  '  Treatise  on  Reversionary 
Payments,'  his  ^ISTortharapton  Mortality  Tables,'  and 
other  writings,  by  which  he  had  laid  the  scientific  foun- 


8  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

dation  of  Life  Assurance,  had  presented  him  with  some 
scientific  apparatus, — a  telescope,  a  microscope,  and  an 
electrical  machine.  It  is  easy  to  imagine  the  charm 
which  these  instruments,  then  novel  and  unusual,  had 
for  a  group  of  lively  and  intelligent  children.  Dr. 
Price's  delight  in  the  company  of  children,  and  his  de- 
sire to  contribute  to  their  amusement  and  instruction, 
found  in  these  toys  of  science  an  unfailing  source  of 
interest  and  profit  to  his  young  friends.  But  he  had 
other  and  more  personal  charms.  He  was  a  most  de- 
lightful companion  for  boys.  He  seems  to  have  pos- 
sessed not  only  a  love  for  children,  but  much  of  that 
boyishness  and  love  of  frolic  which  have  often  charac- 
terized men  of  genius.  In  some  juvenile  recollections 
of  him  which  Samuel  Kogers  has  left,  he  tells  several 
amusing  stories  which  illustrate  this  unexpected  side  of 
a  great  man's  nature.  He  once  challenged  Mr.  Hulton, 
a  commissary  in  the  German  war,  and  commissioner  of 
customs  at  Boston,  a  much  taller  and  more  robust  person 
than  himself,  to  hop  the  length  of  the  first  field  between 
the  meeting-house  and  Stoke  Newington,  and  won  the 
race.  On  another  occasion  he  attempted  to  leap  over 
a  honeysuckle  bush  in  the  grass-plat  in  the  Eogerses' 
garden ;  but,  to  use  Eogers's  words,  ^  he  entangled  the 
tree  between  his  legs,  and  away  went  the  honeysuckle 
and  the  doctor  together.'  The  boys  said  to  one  another 
that  he  had  once  leaped  over  the  New  Kiver;  and  it  was 
his  custom  every  day  at  two  o'clock  to  run  off  for  a 
swim  in  Peerless  Pool.  He  had  frequent  falls  from  his 
horse,  and  in  Co  vent  Garden  was  once  thrown  into  a 
basket  of  beans.  His  conscientiousness  and  benevolence 
were  exemplified  in  other  favorite  stories.  In  a  field 
near  his  house  he  once  saw  some  larks  struggling  in  the 
nets  in  which  they  had  just  been  caught.  He  cut  the 
nets  and  set  them  free,  but,  reflecting  on  the  loss  he  had 
thereby  caused  to  some  unknown  person,  returned  and 


THE  FAMILY  OF  THOMAS  ROGERS.       9 

deposited  some  money  on  the  spot.  In  one  of  his  strolls 
he  suddenly  remembered  that  he  had  seen  a  beetle  on 
its  back,  and  he  returned  through  several  fields,  found 
it,  and  set  it  on  its  legs.  Assailed  in  a  country  walk  by 
a  footpad,  he  mildly  expostulated  with  the  man  and  lec- 
tured him  on  the  crime  of  robbery.  His  absence  of 
mind  was  another  source  of  continual  amusement.  It 
was  said  that  he  had  gone  down  to  his  study  to  supper 
an  hour  after  he  had  eaten  the  meal.  In  conversation 
he  turned  his  wig  round  on  his  temples,  twisted  one 
leg  round  the  other,  and  folded  his  cocked  hat  into  a 
thousand  shapes.  But  all  these  things  endeared  him 
to  the  boys  as  much  as  his  intellectual  distinction,  his 
tender  religious  feelings,  and  his  lively  interest  in  all 
the  questions  of  the  day,  attached  the  elders  to  him. 
Eogers  describes  him  as  ^slim  in  person,  and  rather 
below  the  common  size,  but  possessed  of  great  muscular 
strength  and  remarkable  activity.  With  strong  features, 
and  a  very  intelligent  eye,  his  countenance  was  the 
mirror  of  his  mind ;  and  when  lighted  up  by  conversa- 
tion his  features  were  peculiarly  pleasing/  Everybody 
admired  and  loved  him,  and  this  love  and  admiration 
exerted  a  powerful  influence  on  the  family  at  Newing- 
ton  Green. 

Thomas  Eogers  and  his  wife  were  quite  worthy  of  the 
society  of  which  Dr.  Price  was  the  most  distinguished 
member.  He  was  a  man  of  much  vigor  and  decision, 
and  she  is  described  as  a  tall  and  handsome  woman,  with 
dark  hair  and  eyes  and  a  face  of  great  intelligence. 
Their  children  were  not  very  strong.  It  was  the  time  of 
queues  and  cocked  hats ;  and  Samuel  Eogers  says  that 
the  children  wore  cocked  hats,  and  he  remembered 
chasing  butterflies  in  the  fields  with  the  quaint  three- 
cornered  head-covering  in  his  hand.  The  boys  went  to 
day-school  at  Mr.  Burgh's  and  Mr.  Cockburn's ;  and 
afterwards,  when  Mr.  Burgh  removed  to  Colebrook  Eow, 


10  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Islington  (where  Charles  Lamb  lived  at  a  later  day),  they 
went  over  to  him  for  lessons.  There  was  plenty  of  active 
outdoor  amusement  and  exercise  for  the  boys, — bathing 
in  Peerless  Pool,  riding  on  the  nag,  sporting  in  the  pad- 
dock behind  the  house,  and  rambling  over  the  open  fields. 
London  was  two  miles  away,  across  the  fields  and  gardens 
now  covered  by  De  Beauvoir  Town.  Perhaps  the  best 
account  which  can  be  given  of  the  father  and  mother  is 
in  the  self-revelations  of  their  letters,  many  of  which 
have  happily  been  preserved.  In  these  letters  are  the 
only  remaining  records  of  Samuel  Eogers's  boyhood ;  and 
some  of  them  are  worth  reproducing  for  the  glimpses 
they  give  us  of  various  interesting  people,  some  of  whom 
are  famous  and  some  forgotten,  as  well  as  for  the  picture 
they  make  of  the  pleasant  life  a  prosperous  middle-class 
family  was  living  more  than  a  century  ago.  The  earliest 
in  date  are  from  Mrs.  Eogers,  and  were  addressed  to  her 
husband  during  a  summer  journey  he  took  with  Dr.  Price, 
in  1772,  to  visit  the  doctor's  native  district  in  South 
Wales,  and  a  short  stay  Thomas  Eogers  made  at  his 
father's  house  on  the  way  home.  The  letters,  from 
which  some  purely  business  and  domestic  details  have 
been  omitted,  show  what  kind  of  woman  Eogers's  mother 
was ;  how  careful  of  home  concerns,  how  solicitous  for 
her  household,  how  open  to  all  the  pleasantness  of  life, 
how  entirely  free  from  that  other- worldliness  —  as 
George  Eliot  has  called  it  —  which  is  supposed  to  have 
accompanied  a  Puritan  ancestry  and  training. 

Mary  Bogers  to  Thomas  Rogers. 

*Newington  Green,  July  4,  1772. 
'  My  ever  dear  T.  E.,  —  As  this  method  of  communi- 
cating our   thoughts  to  each  other  is  now  the  only  re- 
source left,  it  is  with  great  pleasure  I  sit  down  to  assure 
you  with  sincerity  how  much  I  regret  your  absence,  and 


HIS  MOTHER'S  LETTERS.  11 

to  endeavor  in  some  measure  to  alleviate  it  by  acquaint- 
ing you  with  all  my  proceedings  since  you  left  us.  But 
as  I  know  the  anxiety  that  always  attends  you  upon  ac- 
count of  every  branch  of  your  family,  I  must  first  begin 
by  assuring  you  that  we  all  continue  perfectly  well. 
Tommy  is  got  quite  well,  and  is  in  exceedingly  good 
spirits.  The  four  ^  are  at  this  time  particularly  happy 
in  exercising  Obey's  nag  about  the  field,  and  are  very 
proud  in  showing  their  horsemanship.  Tommy  has  been 
twice  to  the  bath  on  horseback  before  Kichard,^  and  the 
horse  carries  him  extremely  well.  We  went  to  drink  tea 
with  Mrs.  Wilson  ^  after  you  left  us  on  Tuesday,  and  had 
the  pleasure  to  meet  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Welch.;  ^  Mr.  Wilson 
also  was  at  home,  and  all  conduced  to  make  the  visit 
very  agreeable.  On  Wednesday  evening  we  went  to 
town  to  see  Mr.  Raper^  and  Miss  Raper  in  Norfolk 
Street,  who  both  agreed  to  dine  with  us  at  the  Green 
next  day;  and  Mr.  Harry  Eaper  being  there  —  and  a 
bachelor  at  present  —  offered  to  be  of  the  party.  The 
coach  accordingly  fetched  them  in  the  morning  to  dinner 
upon  beans  and  bacon,  a  couple  of  chickens,  and  a  piece 
of  roast  beef,  and  we  widows  and  widowers  drank  your 
health  and  Mrs.  Henry  Raper's.  The  two  gentlemen 
and  little  Harry  ^  walked  home  again  about  seven  o'clock, 
and  Miss  Eaper  stayed  with  us  till  last  night, — her 
father  and  self  being  to  return  to  Wendover  this  morn- 
ing. .  .  .  Yesterday  morning  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Grant  called 

1  The  four  were  Daniel,  Thomas,  Samuel,  and  Martha ;  Maria,  the 
youngest,  was  only  twelve  months  old. 

2  Sitting  before  Richard  on  the  horee. 

*  Mother  of  Thomas  and  Joseph  Wilson  of  Highbury.  Thomas 
Wilson  was  the  great  chapel-builder  of  the  Independents,  whose  life 
was  wdtten  by  his  son  Josiah. 

*  Mr.  Welch  was  Mr.  Rogers's  partner  in  the  banking-house. 

5  Matthew  Raper  of  Wendover  Dean,  Bucks,  father  of  the  Matthew 
Raper  afterwards  vice-president  of  the  Antiquarian  Society. 

6  This  little  Harry  was  afterwards  Admiral  Raper. 


12  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

on  us  and  engaged  us  and  Miss  Sally  [Eaper]  to  dine 
with,  them  on  Thursday  next.  In  the  afternoon  Mrs. 
Dunn  and  family  drank  tea  with  us.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Price 
writes  to-day  to  Bridgend,  but  desires  I  will  likewise 
mention  that  she  and  Mrs.  Barker  returned  home  to-day, 
safe  and  well,  about  three  o'clock,  and  very  little  fatigued 
with  their  journey.  They  desire  compliments  to  you, 
and  many  thanks  for  the  kind  call  you  made  them.  .  .  . 
Your  trunk  went  this  morning  from  the  Saracen's  Head. 
Eichard  is  gone  to  have  the  horse  shod,  so  I  can't  tell 
the  name  of  the  wagoner.  Adieu,  my  dearest  T.  E. 
I  hope  to  hear  this  evening  that  you  are  well,  which  will 
always  afford  the  truest  pleasure  to 

'  Your  ever  affectionate  and  unalterable 


^M.  R. 


*  Thomas  Rogers,  Esq. 

*  To  be  left  at  the  Post  Office,  Swansea,  GlamorgansMre.' 


Mary  Bogers  to  Thomas  Rogers. 

*  Newington  Green,  Saturday,  July  11,  1772. 
*  My  ever  dear  T.  E.,  —  Many  thanks  for  your  very 
kind  and  agreeable  letter,  which  I  received  on  Wednes- 
day last.  I  assure  you  I  would  have  endeavored  not  to 
have  merited  your  hint  if  I  had  thought  you  had  the 
least  expectation  to  have  heard  from  me  at  Cardiff,  as 
it  is,  and  always  will  be,  my  highest  temporal  wish  to 
promote  your  pleasure  in  every  instance.  It  gave  me 
great  satisfaction  to  hear  of  your  health  last  night  from 
Mrs.  Price,  but  don't  accuse  me  of  recrimination  if  I  say 
that  a  line  from  your  hand  would  have  given  your  poor 
M.  E.  a  little  more  self-consequence  ;  but  I  know  you  mean 
always  to  be  kind  to  me,  and  therefore  I  ought  not  to  com- 
plain. I  called  on  Saturday  evening  on  Miss  Crisp,  and 
agreed  for  Patty  to  go  to  day-school;  £1  Is.  entrance 
and  £2  125.  M.  per  quarter,  for  which  she  learns  reading 


HIS  MOTHER'S  LETTERS.  13 

and  working,  and  has  five  dinners  per  week.  She  began 
on  Wednesday,  and  seems  at  present  very  happy  with  it. 
The  boys  left  ns  on  Wednesday  in  pretty  good  spirits. 
Tommy  continues  his  bathing  as  usual.  On  Thursday 
we  dined  at  Dr.  Grant's,  and  a  most  melting  day  it  was. 
There  was  no  company  but  an  uncle  of  the  doctor's. 
They  wanted  us  to  have  gone  to  Vauxhall  in  the  evening, 
but  we  excused  ourselves,  and  agreed  to  accompany  the 
doctor  and  Mrs.  Grant  to  Foote's  on  Monday  next  to  see 
the  Nabob.  I  came  into  it,  as  I  thought  it  would  be 
agreeable  to  Miss  Sally  Kaper.  .  .  .  She  talks  of  leaving 
us  on  Wednesday  or  Thursday  next.  The  doctor  says 
there  is  no  banker  in  London  besides  yourself  who  would 
have  had  the  courage  to  have  ventured  on  a  journey  at 
this  crisis.  I  suppose  you  have  before  this  heard  of 
Mrs.  Peach's  marriage  with  Mr.  Lyttelton.  I  begin  to 
think  that  I  have  got  a  husband  that  is  possessed  of  the 
art  of  divination.  .  .  . 

*  We  heard  the  other  day  that  Mr.  Gordon's  Kursery 
was  in  full  perfection,  and  Miss  Sally  and  Miss  Mitchell 
expressing  a  wish  to  see  it  we  took  a  ride  there  last 
night,  and  it  perfectly  answered  our  expectations.  We 
laid  out  ten  shillings  with  them  among  us,  and  Mr.  Gor- 
don and  his  son  were  extremely  polite,  and  made  us  a 
present  of  a  most  pompous  nosegay,  which  consisted 
chiefly  of  his  most  curious  flowers,  particularly  some 
charming  magnolia  flowers,  of  which  tree  he  has  scores  in 
bloom.  .  .  .  We  all  happily  continue  well,  and  our  little 
Maria  is  as  lively  as  a  bird,  and,  in  her  mother's  opinion, 
daily  increases  in  charms.  Master  Eickards  was  bap- 
tized yesterday  by  the  name  of  Samuel,  and  yesterday  Mr. 
Eickards  himself  was  seized  with  a  fever  and  speckled 
sore-throat,  and  was  obliged  to  sit  up  in  bed  while  his 
son  was  christened.  They  have  had  Dr.  Grieve,  and  he 
is  to  be  blistered  to-day,  but  I  believe  they  don't  think 
him  in  danger.    Adieu,  my  ever  dear  and  own  T.  R.    May 


14  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

happiness  ever  attend  you,  and  may  your  own  M.  R. 
(if  Providence  spares  her  life)  grow  more  deserving  of 
your  love!  All  join  in  love  and  compliments j  and  I 
remain 

*  Your  constantly  affectionate 

<M.  K 

*  Thomas  Rogers,  Esq. ,  jun. 

*  To  be  left  at  the  Post  Office,  Worcester.' 

There  is  a  letter  from  Samuel  Rogers  addressed  to 
his  father  while  he  was  on  the  same  journey.  It  is  a 
child's  letter,  — he  was  then  approaching  the  close  of  his 
ninth  year,  —  and  it  gives  a  pleasant  glimpse  of  a  happy 
boyhood. 

Samuel  Rogers  to  his  Father, 

*  19th  July,  1772. 

'  Dear  Papa,  —  I  hope  you  have  had  a  good  journey, 
and  hope  my  grandpapa  and  all  my  aunts  are  very  well, 
and  my  cousin  Tommy  Bowles.  I  went  to  school  July 
8th,  but  school  began  July  6th.  I  had  a  very  pleasant 
ride  back  again  from  the  Pack  Horse  at  Turnham  Green. 
My  mamma  chose  to  leave  off  dipping  Maria. 

'  July  the  6th  I  went  to  Sadler's  Wells,  and  I  thought 
it  was  very  pretty.  Me  and  Tommy  and  Dan  and  Patty 
and  Hannah  and  Nurse  all  went  together  in  the  coach. 
At  last  the  makerony  started  out  of  the  floor,  with  a 
long  pigtail  as  big  as  my  wrist,  and  an  artificial  nose- 
gay, and  came  strutting  about  with  his  fine  cocked  hat, 
and  his  hand  in  his  bosom. 

*  I  am  your  dutiful  son, 

'Samuel  Rogers. 

*  Thomas  Rogers,  Esq.,  jun. 

*  At  "  The  Hill,"  near  Stourbridge,  Worcestei-shire.* 

His  mother  follows  this  up  with  a  letter  dated  from 
Newington  Green  on  the  21st  July. 


HIS  MOTHER'S  LETTERS.  16 

Mary  Rogers  to  Thomas  Rogers, 

'  I  had  the  pleasure  to  receive  my  dearest  T.  E.'s  kind 
letter  this  morning,  and  am  rejoiced  to  hear  he  spends 
his  time  so  joyously,  —  a  proof  that  he  enjoys  health, 
and  I  hope  spirits.  Dr.  Price  returned  home  on  Satur- 
day evening  in  perfect  health,  but  his  complexion  has 
received  a  very  different  hue.  He  preached  on  Sunday 
morning,  and  Mr.  Pickbourne  in  the  evening.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Burgh  dined  and  drank  tea  at  Dr.  Price's.  .  .  .  We 
went  to  London  yesterday  morning,  and  called  in  Friday 
Street.  Mrs.  Bowles  told  me  she  has  at  times  suffered 
great  uneasiness  on  account  of  the  criticalness  of  trade, 
but  that  Mr.  Welch  had  been  extremely  kind  to  them  in 
giving  them  assistance.  Mr.  Bowles  came  upstairs,  and 
seemed  in  exceeding  good  spirits,  and  said,  I  think,  that 
he  wrote  to  you  oh  Saturday.  Bessy  goes  to  school  on 
Thursday,  so  I  asked  Mrs.  Bowles  to  dine  with  us,  and 
offered  to  send  the  chariot  for  her.  Mr.  Lisle's  house  is 
again  disposed  of  to  a  Mr.  Coxe,  a  refiner  in  Little  Bri- 
tain. Did  you  ever  hear  of  him  ?  My  expectations  are 
mighty  small.  Mr.  Farmer  has  resigned  Salter's  Hall, 
his  health  not  permitting  him  to  continue  it.  .  .  . 

'I  suppose  you  will  receive  poor  Sammy's  letter  to- 
morrow. You  will  easily  perceive  that  it  was  entirely 
his  own.  He  told  me  —  a  little  rascal !  —  that  he  was 
determined  to  tell  his  papa  that  I  had  left  off  dipping 
Maria. 

*  Adieu,  my  dearest  T.  R.  Be  ever  assured  of  my 
sincerest  affection,  and  continue  to  love  and  think  of 
your  number  five  and  your  own 

'M.  R. 

*  Thomas  Rogers,  jun.  Esq. 

•At  '*The  Hill,"  near  Stourhridge.* 

The  letters  continue  in  the  same  strain.  On  the  25th 
of  July  she  tells  her  husband  of  Sammy's  illness  from 


16  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

the  speckled  sore-throat,  which  seems  to  have  been  one 
of  the  terrors  of  the  time.  She  had  heard  *  a  good  deal 
of  city  news/  one  item  of  which  was  that  a  new  bank  — 
'Sir  Eichard  Glyn's  house'  —  was  to  open,  with  'my 
Lord  Mayor  at  its  head/  In  the  next  letter  she  reports 
that  Sammy's  throat  is  still  bad,  but  that  he  continues 
in  charming  spirits,  and  has  no  fever.  'Dr.  and  Mrs. 
Price  spent  the  evening  with  us  last  night,  and  Dr.  Price 
was  speaking  on  what  very  advantageous  terms  they 
were  granting  annuities  on  the  Douglas  and  Heron  Bank, 
—  provided  the  security  was  good,  —  upon  which  he  and 
Mary  Mitchell  agreed  tc^  go  to  London  this  morning  to 
ask  Mr.  Welch's  opinion  of  it,  and  if  they  should  hear 
a  satisfactory  account  of  it  to  risk  about  £200  apiece.' 
Dan  and  Tom  had  gone  to  Mr.  Burgh's,  as  Mr.  Burgh 
was  too  ill  to  come  to  them.  On  the  29th,  the  day 
before  Sammy's  birthday.  Tommy  begins  a  letter,  but 
his  fluency  failing,  as  his  mother  says,  she  completes  it, 
complaining  that  the  postman  had  slighted  her,  and 
reporting  a  visit  from  Mrs.  Cockburn,  wife  of  the  school- 
master, to  say  that  Tommy  had  fainted  at  school,  but 
was  better  again,  and  the  doctor  had  advised  some  bark. 
The  last  of  this  series  of  letters  is  dated  on  the  1st  of 
August.  She  tells  her  husband  of  a  drive  she  had  taken 
to  Southgate,  to  see  the  Miss  Birches,  but  not  finding  them 
at  home  she  had  gone  on  to  Mrs.  Jones's,  on  the  Chase, 
'  where  we  were  received  in  a  very  polite  and  friendly 
manner.  It  is  quite  a  sweet  situation,  and  the  walking 
about  so  pleasant  that  it  was  nine  o'clock  by  the  time  we 
reached  home,  rather  too  late  an  hour  now.'  She  adds, 
'  I  am  afraid  my  T.  K.  will  think  me  a  racketing  female, 
but  everybody  admires  the  appearance  of  the  horses, 
and  Eichard  says  he  is  sure  they  have  not  too  much 
work.'  Another  item  of  city  information  is  that  'Mr. 
Steed,  of  Tower  Hill,  stopped  a  short  time,  to  the  great 
astonishment  of    many,   but  he  now  finds   that  after 


HIS  MOTHER'S  LETTERS.  17 

everybody  is  paid  lie  will  have  an  overplus  remaining  of 
£10,000.' 

This  letter  was  written  on  the  1st  of  August,  1772, 
and  on  the  1st  of  September  Sarah  Kogers  was  born. 
She  was  the  ninth  child,  but,  as  three  had  died,  the  five 
of  whom  Mrs.  Rogers  speaks  in  one  of  the  above  letters 
formed  at  that  time  her  whole  family.  In  the  succeed- 
ing summer  Mr.  Rogers  was  away  from  home  during  the 
months  of  August  and  September,  spending  the  earlier 
part  of  the  holiday  in  a  journey  to  Scotland,  and  the  lat- 
ter part  at  his  father's  house.  Scotch  tours  were  then 
just  coming  into  fashion.  Mr.  Thomas  Pennant  made 
his  first  tour  in  Scotland  in  1769,  and  the  beautifully 
illustrated  quarto  in  which  he  gave  the  public  a  lively 
account  of  his  travels,  was  published  in  1771.  It  was 
very  widely  read,  and  may  be  said  to  have  turned  the 
tide  of  holiday  travel  northwards.  His  second  tour  was 
made  in  1772  ;  but  the  three  quarto  volumes  in  which  he 
told  the  amusing  story  of  his  journey  were  not  published 
till  1775,  the  year  in  which  Johnson  published  his  *  Jour- 
ney to  the  Western  Isles.'  Thomas  Rogers  went  in 
August,  1773,  over  much  of  the  ground  covered  in  Mr. 
Pennant's  first  tour,  and  his  wife,  sitting  at  home,  traced 
his  course  with  Pennant's  volume  in  her  hand.  Her  let- 
ters, of  which  a  dozen  are  preserved,  are  full  of  domestic, 
social,  and  business  details,  and  give  further  glimpses  of 
the  family  life  at  Newington  Green.  The  earliest  speak 
of  the  ailments  of  the  children,  of  visitors,  one  of  whom 
had  come  unexpectedly  to  dine  because  he  was  sure  he 
should  not  meet  his  wife,  and  of  a  lawsuit  which  had 
been  decided  in  which  Mr.  Rogers  was  interested.  The 
fourth  letter  is  as  follows :  — 


18  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Mary  Bogers  to  Thomas  Rogers. 

'  Newington  Green,  August  17. 

'  My  dearest  T.  R.,  —  It  is  not  in  my  power  to  ex- 
press sufficient  thanks  for  the  happiness  your  last  two 
letters  afforded  me.  To  know  that  you  are  well  always 
gives  me  sincere  pleasure,  but  to  give  me  so  near  together 
two  such  strong  proofs  of  your  remembrance  to  your 
happy  M.  R.  was  indeed  peculiarly  kind  ;  and  I  can  with 
sincerity  say,  my  dearest  T.  R.,  that  on  receipt  of  your 
last  letter  I  felt  an  affectionate  gratitude  that  no  words 
can  express.  The  children  all  continue  well,  and  your 
M.  R.  is  also  quite  stout,  though  still  but  poorly.  Mrs. 
Newman  and  Misses  Sarah  and  Ruth  Raper  are  come  in 
to  dinner,  which  will  oblige  me  greatly  (and  much  against 
my  will)  to  shorten  my  letter.  I  have  had  letters  from 
M.  M.  [Mary  Mitchell].  She  returns  home  this  week  or 
next,  and  desires  her  love  to  you.  Mrs.  B.  [Bowles]  took 
Patty  to  London  on  Sunday.  She  has  got  the  measles  in 
a  very  favorable  way.     Mr.  Field  attends  her.^ 

'Dr.  Price  is  returned  from  Lord  Shelburne's;  he 
entirely  cleared  up  his  conduct  relating  to  the  India  Bill. 
He  entirely  disapproved  of  the  measure,  but  the  Duke 
of  Richmond  said  the  Parliament  had  no  right  to  make 
such  a  Bill,  in  which  respect  Lord  Shelburne  differed  with 
him,  and  said  they  had  a  right. 

'Mr.  Burroughs  has  accepted  of  the  living.  You  said 
I  might  give  Dr.  Amory  ^  an  invitation  to  come  and  take 
a  bed  sometimes  on  Saturday  night,  which  I  mentioned 
to  him  on  Sunday,  and  I  don't  know  whether  he  will  not 
accept  of  it  next  Saturday.     We  have  had  violent  storms 

1  Mr.  Field,  apothecary  of  Stoke  NewingtoTi  and  Christ's  Hospital, 
father  of  Henry  Field  of  Christ's  Hospital  and  of  the  Rev.  William 
Field  of  Warwick,  the  biographer  of  Dr.  Parr  ;  grandfather  of  the  late 
Mr.  Edwin  Wilkins  Field. 

2  Dr.  Amory  was  the  morning  preacher  at  Newington  Green. 


HIS  MOTHER'S  LETTERS.  19 

of  thunder  and  lightning,  which  have  in  many  places 
done  much  damage.  Mrs.  T.  Richards  and  her  little 
boy  are  gone  to-day  to  Brighthelmstone  with  Mr.  Mait- 
land's  family.  I  assure  you,  my  dear  T.  R.,  I  have  been  a 
great  housekeeper  (I  wish  I  could  say  a  good  one).  I 
have  scarcely  been  off  the  Green  since  you  left  me, 
not  above  twice  or  thrice  in  the  coach.  Adieu,  my  ever 
dear  T.  E., 

<  And  always  believe  me  to  be 

*  Your  constantly  affectionate 

<M.  E. 

*  Thomas  Rogers,  Esq. 
*  Post  Office,  Inverness.' 

The  next  letters  were  addressed  to  Inverary,  Dumbar- 
ton, and  Glasgow;  the  last  containing  the  news  of  *the 
death  of  that  worthy  and  great  man.  Lord  Lyttelton,'  and 
of  a  visit  from  Mr.  Eogers  the  elder.  In  another,  dated 
September  4,  she  says  :  — 

*I  had  a  letter  from  my  sister  Mary  [her  husband's 
sister  at  the  Hill]  on  Saturday  evening.  She  says  Mr. 
Eogers  is  but  inJifferent,  though  rather  better  than  he 
has  been.  She  seems  to  intimate  that  it  would  give  him 
particular  pleasure  to  hear  from  you.  Lord  Lyttelton  is 
greatly  lamented,  as  must  be  imagined.  He  has  long 
been  troubled  with  a  boil,  and  constant  physicking  for 
that,  and  uneasiness  of  mind.  Dr.  Ash  thinks,  quite  broke 
his  constitution.  He  left  his  blessing  for  his  son,  and 
desired  he  might  be  told  that  he  forgave  him.  He  was 
speechless  for  some  time ;  and  at  last,  exerting  himself, 
called  Mrs.  Lyttelton,^  gave  her  his  blessing,  lamented 
her  situation,  and  said  that  in  losing  him  she  had  lost 
her  only  friend.    He  then  called  Lord  and  Lady  Yalentia, 

1  The  wife  of  his  worthless  son,  formerly  Mrs.  Peach  of  *The 
Leasowes.' 


20  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

blessed  them,  and  hoped  they  would  continue  to  live  in 
virtue,  as  that  would  give  them  peace  at  the  last.  Mr. 
Kogers  desires  that  you  would  give  his  compliments  to 
Mr.  Lascelles,  and  let  him  know  that  he  shall  be  glad  of 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  at  the  Hill  with  you/ 

On  the  23d  of  September  she  writes :  — 

'  I  had  the  happiness  to  receive  a  very  kind  letter  from 
you,  my  ever  dear  T.  R.,  on  Tuesday  morning,  from 
Warrington,  and  was  pleased  to  think  that  you  were 
drawing  so  near  to  your  poor  deserted  wife  and  her  six 
children,  who  will  all  rejoice  to  receive  again  their  ram- 
bling husband  and  father.  You  must  allow  me  to  be  a 
little  saucy  by  way  of  variety,  though  in  truth  if  I  was 
likely  to  indulge  a  grave  vein,  the  sentiments  I  constantly 
feel  would  lead  me  to  express  my  gratitude  for  your 
unspeakable  kindness  to  me  during  your  absence,  your 
unwearied  attention  to  your  own  M.  R.,  and  the  kind 
assurances  of  love  and  affection  that  you  were  con- 
stantly favoring  her  with.  My  heart  sincerely  exults  in 
the  agreeable  reflection,  attended  with  the  truest  self- 
congratulation,  and  determines  to  increase  my  assiduity 
to  promote  his  happiness  to  whom  I  am  united  by  the 
most  tender  and  indissoluble  ties ;  and  though  above 
thirteen  years  have  elapsed  since  that  —  to  me,  happy  — 
union  took  place,  I  have  the  daily  satisfaction  to  find 
that  the  attachment  of  my  heart  is  more  and  more 
strong,  and  that  the  chief  of  all  my  temporal  wishes 
centre  in  him. 

^  We  have  this  morning  been  taking  an  agreeable  ride 
that  I  have  been  talking  of  all  the  summer :  it  was  to 
see  Mrs.  Hanson  and  Mrs.  Berthon,  and  we  found  neither 
of  them  at  home.  Mr.  Berthon  lives  on  the  Forest,  just 
beyond  Mr.  Bosanquet's.  It  is  a  pretty  part  of  the  coun- 
try, and,  I  think,  vastly  superior  to  Clapham  Common. 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  MOTHER.  21 

Samuel  Derrick,  our  Uncle  Jo's  man,  is  come  here 
to-day ;  he  came  to  London  on  Sunday,  and  returns  to- 
morrow morning.  He  says  all  friends  are  well  at  Derby. 
Pray  tell  Mrs.  Bowles  that  all  her  young  folks  dined 
with  us  yesterday,  and  were  very  well  and  very  merry. 
We  had,  also,  two  of  the  young  ladies  from  Miss  Crisp's, 
and  they  were  altogether  a  joyous  party.  I  was  much 
obliged  by  Mrs.  Bowles's  letter  that  I  received  yesterday, 
and  beg  my  thanks  for  it.  Mrs.  Solly  and  Mrs.  Neal 
made  us  a  long  morning  visit  yesterday,  Mrs.  Solly 
says  that  they  were  prevented  dining  with  us  early  in 
the  summer  by  the  children  having  the  whooping-cough ; 
and  that  they  intended  sending  to  us  the  week  you  left 
home,  but  were  prevented  by  hearing  of  your  journey. 
They,  however,  fully  intend  it,  but  must  leave  it  till  they 
come  to  London.' 

These  letters  sufficiently  indicate  what  manner  of 
woman  Mrs.  Eogers  was.  They  have  been  carefully 
preserved  by  her  descendants,  and  have  kept  alive  the 
memory  of  her  virtues  as  a  mother  and  a  wife.  She  is 
described  as  a  handsome  and  accomplished  woman,  of 
much  vivacity,  popular  in  society,  and  tenderly  beloved 
by  her  own  household.  She  was  firm  and  strict  in  her 
domestic  administration,  but  so  tender  and  gentle  that 
these  were  the  chief  characteristics  which  afterwards 
dwelt  in  the  memory  of  her  children.  '  I  was  taught  by 
my  mother,'  said  Eogers  to  Mr.  Dyce,  'to  be  tenderly 
kind  towards  the  meanest  living  thing,  and,  however 
'  people  may  laugh,  I  sometimes  very  carefully  put  a  stray 
gnat  or  wasp  out  of  my  window.'  So  do  childhood's 
lessons  survive,  and  a  mother's  teaching  endures.  In 
Mrs.  Rogers's  diary  we  get  another  view  of  her  character, 
—  see  what  Wordsworth  calls  'the  very  pulse  of  the 
machine.'  Like  her  father  she  was  introspective,  apt 
to  sit  in  judgment  on  herself,  fond  of  putting  her  good 


22  EAELY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

resolutions  on  record.  In  these  ^sessions  of  sweet  si- 
lent thought/  she,  like  Shakspeare  in  the  sonnet,  would 

*  summon  up  remembrance  of  things  past,'  and  in  re- 
spect, not  of  outward  happiness  but  of  inward  character, 

*  sigh  the  lack  of  many  a  thing '  she  sought.  Into  this 
secrecy  there  is  no  need  that  we  should  further  look. 
Such  a  diary  is  a  sacred  thing,  which  only  love  and 
reverence  should  scan.  It  contains  passages  from  Dr. 
Price's  sermons  which  show  the  great  influence  of  his 
thoughtful  genius  on  her  inward  life.  It  was  a  life  nobly 
planned ;  and  her  husband's  testimony,  when  with  dimmed 
eyes  he  read  this  record  of  her  pious  resolutions,  was  that 
it  was  nobly  executed.  ^  In  understanding,'  he  says,  '  she 
was  equalled  by  few ;  in  humility,  good-nature,  cheerful- 
ness, benevolence,  and  tenderness  of  disposition,  a  con- 
stant desire  to  please,  and  in  the  amiable  discharge  of 
every  relative  and  social  duty,  by  none.'  She  died  on 
the  11th  of  July,  1776,  three  weeks  after  the  birth  of 
her  eleventh  child,  who  survived  her  only  a  couple  of 
months.  Samuel  Kogers  was  then  within  three  weeks 
of  the  completion  of  his  thirteenth  year. 

In  his  poem  of  ^  Human  Life '  Rogers  gives  a  glimpse 
of  his  own  boyhood,  and  shows  how  vivid  was  his  recol- 
lection of  his  mother's  tenderness :  — 

*  He  walks,  he  speaks.    In  many  a  broken  word 
His  wants,  his  wishes,  and  his  griefs  are  heard, 
And  ever,  ever,  to  her  lap  he  flies. 
When  rosy  sleep  comes  on  with  sweet  surprise  — 
Locked  in  her  arms,  his  arms  across  her  flung 
(That  name  most  dear  forever  on  his  tongue), 
As  with  soft  accents  round  her  neck  he  clings, 
And,  cheek  to  cheek,  her  lulHng  song  she  sings. 

But  soon  a  nobler  task  demands  her  care ; 
Apart,  she  joins  his  little  hands  in  prayer, 
Telling  of  Him  who  sees  in  secret  there. 


THE  MOTHER'S  INELUENCE.  23 

And  now  the  volume  on  her  knee  has  caught 

His  wandering  eye,  —  now  many  a  written  thought, 

Kever  to  die,  with  many  a  lisping  sweet, 

His  moving,  murmuring  lips  endeavor  to  repeat. 

Released,  he  chases  the  bright  butterfly ; 

Oh,  he  would  follow,  —  follow  through  the  sky ! 

Climbs  the  gaunt  mastiff  slumbering  in  his  chain, 

And  chides  and  buffets,  clinging  by  the  mane ; 

Then  runs,  and,  kneeling  by  the  fountain-side. 

Sends  his  brave  ship  in  triumph  down  the  tide,  — 

A  dangerous  voyage ;  or  if  now  he  can, 

If  now  he  wears  the  habit  of  a  man. 

Flings  off  the  coat  so  much  his  pride  and  pleasure, 

And,  like  a  miser  digging  for  his  treasure, 

His  tiny  spade  in  his  own  garden  plies. 

And  in  green  letters  sees  his  name  arise. 

Where'er  he  goes,  forever  in  her  sight. 

She  looks  and  looks,  and  still  with  new  delight.' 

In  the  notes  to  the  same  poem  Rogers  says :  '  We  have 
many  friends  in  life,  but  we  can  only  have  one  mother,  — 
"  a  discovery,"  says  Gray,  "  which  I  never  made  till  it 
was  too  late."  The  child  is  no  sooner  born  than  he 
clings  to  his  mother,  nor  while  she  lives  is  her  image 
absent  from  him  in  the  hour  of  his  distress.  Sir  John 
Moore,  when  he  fell  from  his  horse  in  the  battle  of 
Corunna,  faltered  out  with  his  dying  breath  some  mes- 
sage to  his  mother.  And  who  can  forget  the  last  words 
of  Conradin  when,  in  his  fifteenth  year,  he  was  led  forth 
to  die  at  Naples,  —  "O  my  mother,  how  great  will  be 
your  grief  when  you  hear  of  it ! " ' 


CHAPTER   11. 

Rogers's  Boyhood  and  Schoolmasters.  —  His  Father.  —  William  Maltby. 
—  Dr.  Price  and  the  Boys. — Thomas  Rogers's  Politics. — Dr. 
Price's  Influence.  —  Samuel  Rogers  and  the  Pulpit.  —  The  Coven- 
try Election.  —  Letters  from  Thomas  Rogers.  —  Samuel  Regers  at 
Home. 

The  too  early  death  of  Rogers's  mother  did  not  leave 
the  family  without  a  woman  at  its  head.  When  Thomas 
Rogers  married  he  went  to  live  in  the  house  of  his 
father-in-law,  and  he  found  there,  living  as  a  member 
of  the  family,  Mary  Mitchell,  who  is  spoken  of  in  Mrs. 
Rogers's  letters.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Paul  Mitchell, 
who  had  married  Mary  Radford,  the  sister  of  Daniel 
Radford,  and  she  was  therefore  first  cousin  to  Mrs. 
Rogers.  Daniel  Radford  had  taken  his  niece,  who  had 
been  left  an  orphan,  to  be  the  companion  of  his  only 
child,  and  she  had  lived  with  her  all  through  her  married 
life,  assisting  her  in  bearing  the  burden  of  her  house- 
hold cares.  Miss  Mitchell  was  a  capable  and  cultivated 
person,  whom  the  children  looked  up  to  as  almost  a 
second  mother.  She  lived  on  with  them  till  the  home 
on  Newington  Green  was  broken  up,  and  then  with  Mr. 
Henry  Rogers  at  Highbury,  where  she  died.  Another 
of  the  ladies  of  the  household  was  Mrs.  Worthington,  an 
older  and  more  distant  cousin  than  Mrs.  Mitchell.  She 
is  the  Milly  of  the  family  letters,  and  acted  as  governess 
to  the  children. 

The  kind  of  life  the  family  led  during  Samuel  Rogers's 
boyhood  has  been  sufficiently  shown  in  his  mother's 
letters.    In  Mr.  Hayward's  appreciative  notice  in  the 


CHARACTERISTICS  AS  A  BOY.  25 

'  Edinburgh  Eeview/  written  a  few  months  after  Eogers's 
death,  there  are  some  speculations  on  his  conduct  and 
character  in  boyhood,  which  Mr.  Hayward  borrowed 
from  a  letter  written  to  him  by  Mrs.  Norton,  who 
humorously  constructed  an  imaginary  first  childhood  out 
of  what  she  had  known  of  Eogers  when  he  was  verging 
towards  second  childhood.  Neither  Mrs.  Norton  nor 
Mr.  Hayward  knew  anything  at  all  of  Eogers's  younger 
days.  He  was  the  very  contrary  of  everything  they 
describe  in  this  futile  attempt  to  construct  biographical 
details  out  of  their  internal  consciousness.  He  was  sen- 
sitive, impulsive,  imaginative,  and  emotional,  as  all  lads 
who  inherit  the  poetical  temperament  are.  He  was  not 
strong  enough  for  much  athletic  exercise,  but  he  took 
his  fair  share  in  the  games  and  adventures  of  boyhood. 
*  His  life  was  gentle,'  and  his  was  just  such  a  boyhood  as 
thousands  of  English  lads  are  enjoying  now  in  families 
of  some  wealth  and  much  culture,  with  only  the  outward 
differences  that  the  lapse  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  years 
has  made.  His  father  had  ideas  as  to  the  relation  of 
parent  and  child  which  have  become  old-fashioned  now. 
He  was  a  somewhat  strict  disciplinarian.  His  grandson, 
Samuel  Sharpe,  describes  him  as  having  dressed,  accord- 
ing to  the  fashion  of  the  day,  in  a  brown  coat,  with  great 
amplitude  in  the  sleeves,  and  worn  a  cocked  hat,  powder, 
and  a  queue.  The  powdered  hair  was,  in  those  days, 
not  inconsistent  with  Whiggism ;  a  little  later,  when 
Eox  had  set  the  fashion  of  leaving  his  hair  of  the  color 
nature  had  given  it,  the  Whigs  followed  his  example, 
and  with  them,  at  least,  powder  went  out  of  fashion. 
Thomas  Eogers  was  what  would  now  be  described  as 
a  Eadical,  as  were  all  the  Whigs  of  a  century  ago. 
Samuel  Sharpe  tells  us  that  he  had  voted  for  the  Byngs, 
father  and  son,  at  every  Middlesex  election,  except  when 
he  was  displeased  with  the  Coalition  Ministry.  That  he 
was  a  good  man  of  business  his  success  may  be  taken  to 


26  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

prove.  His  household  was  conducted  with  the  regular- 
ity which  became  the  chief  person  in  a  Dissenting  con- 
gregation. He  read  prayers  with  his  family  in  tlie 
morning,  and  they  were  regular  in  their  attendance  at 
the  Stoke  Newington  Chapel.  In  the  next  pew  to  them 
sat  Mary  Wollstone craft,  then  a  girl;  and  the  pulpit 
was  filled  by  Dr.  Towers  in  the  morning  and  by  Dr.  Price 
in  the  afternoon.  Thomas  Eogers  was  affectionately  re- 
garded by  his  children,  though  in  those  days  there  was 
always  a  certain  distance  between  the  head  of  the  house 
and  the  other  members  of  the  household.  His  children 
address  him  in  their  letters  with  the  formality  now  re- 
served for  strangers,  and  with  them  all  his  will  was 
law. 

Soon  after  his  mother's  death  Sara  was  sent  to  his  last 
schoolmaster,  —  the  Kev.  James  Pickbourne  of  Hackney. 
Mr.  Pickbourne  had  been  librarian  to  Dr.  Williams's 
library,  of  which  Thomas  Eogers  was  one  of  the  trustees. 
He  had  afterwards  acted  as  travelling  tutor  to  some 
young  men,  with  whom  he  had  made  the  grand  tour. 
He  was  the  author  of  a  ^Dissertation  on  the  English 
Verb,'  and  of  another  on  '  Metrical  Pauses.'  His  school 
was  in  Grove  Street,  Hackney.  One  of  the  most  lasting 
friendships  of  Rogers's  life  was  begun  at  this  school. 
This  was  with  William  Maltby,  a  near  relative  of  Edward 
Maltby,  who  was  afterwards  Bishop  of  Durham.  Maltby 
writes  to  his  friend  on  the  12th  of  December,  1781,  of 
*the  many  joyful  hours  I  have  passed  in  your  company 
under  the  confinement  of  scholastic  restraint,'  and  now 
that  school  days  are  over,  expresses  Hhe  most  sanguine 
hopes  of  a  pure  and  lively  pleasure  from  our  new  corre- 
spondence and  increasing  friendship,  the  latter  of  which 
I  flatter  myself  will  neither  be  dissolved  by  diversity  of 
opinion  nor  distance  of  habitation,  but  will  be  as  dura- 
ble as  sincere.'  Such  anticipations  are  often  expressed, 
but  rarely  realized.     In  this  instance  they  were  literally 


LORD  SHELBURNE  AND  DR.  PRICE.  27 

fulfilled.  The  schoolboy  friendship  proved  ^  as  durable  as 
sincere/  It  lasted  for  more  than  seventy-two  years  after 
this  letter  was  written,  and  was  only  dissolved  by  death. 
William  Maltby  went  to  Cambridge  when  Samuel  Eogers 
went  to  business,  though,  being  a  Dissenter,  he  was 
unable  to  take  his  degree.  He  afterwards  practised  as 
a  solicitor,  and  in  1809  was  appointed  librarian  of  the 
London  Institution  in  succession  to  Porson.  He  was  re- 
lieved from  duty  in  1834,  but  continued  to  live  in  the 
librarian's  house  till  he  died  in  January,  1854,  in  his 
ninetieth  year.  His  schoolboy  friend  survived  him,  and 
erected  a  tablet  in  Norwood  Cemetery  to  his  memory. 

While  Samuel  Eogers  was  still  at  school.  Dr.  Price 
suddenly  bounded  into  fame  by  publishing  his  great 
work  on  the  war  with  the  American  Colonies.  This 
obscure  preacher  to  a  small  and  decreasing  suburban 
congregation  had  already  become  known  and  esteemed 
beyond  the  little  circle  of  those  who  appreciated  his 
religious  teaching  and  admired  his  character.  He  had 
published  in  1758  a  ^Treatise  on  the  Foundation  of 
Morals,'  and  in  1767  a  volume  of  dissertations,  among 
which  was  one  on  'Providence,'  and  another  'On  the 
Junction  of  Virtuous  Men  in  a  Future  State.'  These 
essays  attracted  the  notice  of  Lord  Shelburne,  who  read 
them  during  a  period  of  gloom  and  depression  occasioned 
by  the  loss  of  his  wife.  Lord  Shelburne  asked  Mrs. 
Montagu,  who  had  recommended  the  book,  for  an  intro- 
duction to  its  author,  and  thereupon  called  on  Dr.  Price 
at  Newington  Green.  The  interview  was  so  satisfac- 
tory to  both  that  it  was  soon  repeated  with  important 
results. 

Lord  Shelburne  felt  the  charm  of  Dr.  Price's  simple 
and  unaffected  character;  Dr.  Price  respected  and  es- 
teemed Lord  Shelburne  for  his  serious  earnestness,  and 
a  friendship  was  begun  which  only  ended  with  their 
lives.     This  intercourse  with  Dr.  Price  led  to  Lord  Shel- 


28  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

burners  introduction  to  Dr.  Priestley,  and  to  Dr.  Price's 
acquaintance  with  Mr.  Dunning  and  Colonel  Barre.  The 
same  book  which  had  brought  Lord  Shelburne  to  New- 
ington  Green  soon  afterwards  brought  Lord  Lyttelton 
thither  on  a  similar  errand.  His  *  Dialogues  of  the 
Dead '  had  been  published  in  1760 ;  fourteen  years  earlier 
he  had  written  a  work  on  the  *  Conversion  of  St.  Paul,' 
and  he  now  went  to  Dr.  Price  to  talk  with  one  of  the 
clearest  thinkers  of  the  age  on  the  transcendent  themes 
in  which  he  felt  so  profound  an  interest.  The  acquaint- 
ance thus  begun  between  an  old  neighbor  of  Thomas 
Pogers  and  his  next-door  neighbor  and  minister  at  New- 
ington  Green  was  cut  short  by  Lord  Lyttelton's  death 
a  few  years  later  in  1773.  Dr.  Price  was  all  this  time 
becoming  known  for  his  philosophical  inquiries  in  an- 
other direction.  He  had  written  letters  to  Dr.  Franklin, 
which  had  been  published  in  the  ^Philosophical  Transac- 
tions,' ^  On  the  Expectation  of  Lives,'  and  ^  On  the  Effect 
of  the  Aberration  of  Light  on  the  Time  of  the  Transit  of 
Venus ; '  and  had  made  a  communication  to  the  Koyal 
Society  on  the  proper  method  of  calculating  the  values 
of  contingent  reversions.  It  was  said  by  some  of  his 
friends  that  the  labor  of  these  abstruse  calculations 
turned  his  hair  suddenly  gray.  His  biographer,  Mr. 
William  Morgan,^  says  that  in  this  latter  paper  he  had 
corrected  an  error  into  which  M.  de  Moivre  had  fallen ; 
but  thinking  the  mistake  must  be  his  own,  rather  than 
that  of  so  eminent  a  mathematician,  he  ^  puzzled  himself 
so  much  in  the  correction  of  it,  that  the  color  of  his  hair, 
which  was  naturally  black,  became  changed  in  different 
parts  of  his  head  into  spots  of  perfect  white.  All  this 
must  have  arisen  from  his  usual  diffidence  in  his  own 
abilities;  for  no  other  cause  can  be  assigned  for  his 
doubts  and  difficulties  in  a  case  which  really  admitted  of 
1  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  the  Rev.  Richard  Price,  D.D.,  F.R.  S.  By 
William  Morgan,  F.R.S. 


DR.  PRICE  ON  CIVIL  LIBERTY.  29 

none.'  It  was  in  this  same  year  1769  that  his  celebrated 
'  Treatise  on  Eeversionary  Payments '  was  issued.  It 
was  followed  up  in  1772  by  an  ^Appeal  to  the  Public  on 
the  National  Debt/ 

These  publications  had  prepared  the  way  for  his  '  Ob- 
servations on  Civil  Liberty  and  the  Justice  and  Policy 
of  the  War  with  America/  which  was  issued  early  in 
1776.     The  outbreak  of  these  fratricidal  hostilities  in 
1774  had  deeply  stirred  the  public  mind,  and  one  of 
Samuel  Kogers's   early  recollections  was,  that  on   one 
evening  after  reading  from  the  Bible  at  family  prayers, 
his   father  explained  to  his  children  the  cause  of  the 
rebellion  in  the  colonies,  and  told  them  that  our  own 
nation  was  in  the  wrong  and  it  was  not  right  to  wish 
that  the  Americans  should  be   conquered.     When  the 
news  of  the  battle  of  Lexington  reached  England,  —  a 
battle   begun  by   nine   hundred    British   soldiers   firing 
three  volleys  at  the  little  troop  of  seventy  men  whom 
Captain  John  Parker,  grandfather  of  Theodore  Parker, 
had  formed  into  the  first  line  of  the  revolution,  —  Thomas 
Kogers  put  on  mourning.     Being  asked  if  he  had  lost  a 
friend,  he  answered  that  he  had  lost  several  friends  —  in 
New  England.     The  Kecorder  of  London  put  on  mourn- 
ing for  the  same  event  at  the  same  time,  and  Granville 
Sharp  gave  up  his  place  in  the  Ordnance  office  because 
he  did  not  think  it  right  to  ship  stores  and  munitions  of 
war  which  might  be  used  to  put  down  self-government 
in  the  American  colonies.     To  this  very  strong  and  wide- 
spread feeling  Dr.  Price's  Essay  gave  powerful  literary 
expression.     It  was  written  in  the  winter  of  1775.     The 
battles  of  Lexington  and  Bunker  Hill  had  taken  place 
in  the  preceding  summer,  and  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence followed  on  the  fourth  of  July,  1776,  about  six 
months  after  the  issue  of  Dr.  Price's  pamphlet.    The 
time  of  its  publication  was,  therefore,  most  opportune. 
The  public  excitement  was  more  intense  than  anytliing 


30  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

this  generation  has  witnessed,  and  the  book  was  so 
eagerly  bought  that  the  printers,  with  the  slow  machin- 
ery of  those  days,  could  not  keep  pace  with  the  demand. 
Dr.  Price  was  urged  to  allow  a  cheap  edition  to  be 
printed,  and  he  at  once  consented,  though  by  doing  so  he 
sacrificed  his  pecuniary  profits.  In  a  few  months  nearly 
sixty  thousand  copies,  then  an  almost  unparalleled  num- 
ber, had  been  sold,  and  Dr.  Price's  name  was  in  every- 
body's mouth.  The  Corporation  of  London  —  then,  as 
in  so  many  parts  of  its  previous  history,  a  really  popular 
body,  representative  of  the  best  Liberal  feeling  of  the 
time  —  presented  him  with  the  freedom  of  the  city  in 
a  gold  box,  in  '  testimony  of  their  approbation  of  his 
principles  and  of  the  high  sense  they  entertained  of  the 
excellence  of  his  observations  on  the  justice  and  policy 
of  the  war  with  America.'  Fame  brought  its  incon- 
veniences together  with*  its  pleasures.  Anonymous  let- 
ters were  sent  threatening  his  life,  and  he  was  obliged 
to  decline  correspondence  with  Dr.  Franklin  on  the 
ground  that  he  had  become  so  marked  and  obnoxious 
that  prudence  required  him  to  be  extremely  cautious. 
The  populace,  however,  loved  and  reverenced  the  coura- 
geous advocate  of  popular  rights.  As  he  rode  in  the 
streets  of  London,  on  his  old  white  horse,  blind  in  one 
eye,  clothed,  as  Rogers  remembered  him,  ^  in  a  great  coat 
and  black  spatterdashes,'  Rogers  says  that,  like  Demos- 
thenes, he  was  often  diverted  by  hearing  the  carmen  and 
orange-women  say,  ^ There  goes  Dr.  Price!'  'Make  way 
for  Dr.  Price ! '  The  seriousness  and  gentle  mildness  of 
his  character  surprised  those  who  only  knew  him  from 
his  works.  When  the  Duchess  of  Bedford  met  him,  at 
her  own  request,  at  Shelburne  House,  his  quiet  aspect 
and  unassuming  manners  caused  her  great  astonishment. 
'I  expected  to  meet  a  Colossus,'  she  afterwards  said, 
*with  an  eye  like  Mars,  to  threaten  and  command.' 
Gibbon  is  reported  to  have   expressed  similar   surprise 


DR.  PRICE'S  INFLUENCE.  31 

when  he  met  him  in  Mr.  Cadell's  shop.  The  services  he 
had  rendered  to  freedom  were  acknowledged  in  France 
and  the  United  States,  and  in  most  unexpected  quarters 
at  home.  Congress  passed  a  resolution  inviting  him  to 
become  a  citizen  of  the  United  States,  and  to  assist  them 
in  the  regulation  of  their  finances.  In  later  years  Tur- 
got  corresponded  with  him,  Pitt  repeatedly  consulted 
him  on  great  questions  of  national  finance,  and  a  speech 
of  his  in  proposing  the  toast  of  union  between  England 
and  France  was  read  twice  in  the  National  Assembly,  the 
members  standing.  He  was  one  day  at  the  Bar  of  the 
House  of  Lords,  when  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  came  up 
and  told  him  he  had  read  his  '  Essay  on  Civil  Liberty '  till 
he  was  blind.  ^  It  is  remarkable,^  replied  Lord  Ashbur- 
ton,  who  was  standing  near,  'that  your  royal  highness 
should  have  been  blinded  by  a  book  which  has  opened 
the  eyes  of  all  mankind.' 

It  is  difficult  to  over-estimate  the  influence  which  this 
admirable  and  estimable  person  exerted  over  Samuel 
Eogers  and  his  brothers  in  the  early  part  of  their  lives. 
Dr.  Price  was  no  mere  controversialist.  He  was  content 
with  the  service  he  had  done  to  freedom,  and  expressed 
the  desire,  after  the  issue  of  his  second  pamphlet,  to 
remain  *an  anxious  spectator  of  the  present  contest 
with  the  satisfaction  of  having  endeavored  to  commu- 
nicate just  ideas  of  government,  and  of  the  nature  and 
value  of  civil  liberty.'  He  held  high  and  serious  views 
of  the  responsibilities  of  his  profession  as  a  preacher, 
and  his  excursions  into  politics  and  finance  were  only 
occasional  divergences  from  pastoral  work.  He  had  left 
Stoke  Newington  in  some  depression  at  the  smallness 
of  his  audience  there,  and  had  become  morning  preacher 
at  Hackney,  but  remained  as  afternoon  lecturer  to  his 
former  congregation.  Political  celebrity,  however,  brought 
crowds  to  hear  him  at  Hackney,  and  his  sermons  on  the 
fast  days  of  1779  and  1781  were  published  and  very 


32  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

widely  read.  His  profound  sense  of  the  importance  of 
the  pulpit  impressed  itself  very  strongly  on  his  young 
admirer  and  disciple  Samuel  Rogers,  and  led  him  to 
desire  to  adopt  it  as  his  profession.  He  used  to  tell 
the  story  of  his  father  one  day  calling  the  boys  into 
his  room,  and  asking  them  what  professions  they  would 
choose  in  life.  Samuel  replied  that  he  should  like  to  be 
a  preacher.  He  thought  there  was  nothing  on  earth  so 
grand.  The  wish  was  entirely  due  to  his  admiration  for 
Dr.  Price  and  his  preaching.  It  was  afterwards  over- 
ruled; but  a  letter  is  extant  from  the  Rev.  Theophilus 
Lindsey,  the  founder  of  Essex  Street  Unitarian  Chapel, 
in  which  he  states  that  he  had  heard  an  oration  from 
Mr.  Samuel  Rogers,  who  was  thinking  of  entering  at 
Warrington  Academy  as  a  student  for  the  ministry.^ 
The  choice  is  only  now  of  interest  as  showing  the  bent  of 
Samuel  Rogers's  mind  away  from  business.  The  weak- 
ness of  his  voice  would  have  disqualified  him  for  any 
form  of  public  speaking.  His  father  probably  saw,  more- 
over, that  it  was  his  imagination  rather  than  the  impera- 
tive call  of  special  faculties  and  endowments,  which  had 
led  to  his  desire  to  preach ;  and  there  was  no  sign  what- 
ever, in  any  part  of  his  life,  that  he  possessed  the  peculiar 
powers  which  can  alone  lead  to  distinction,  and  to  the 
large  usefulness  which  accompanies  it,  in  the  profession 
of  the  preacher.  Mr.  Dyce,  in  his  recollections  of 
Rogers's  conversation,  —  recollections  which  show  on 
every  page  that  they  are  chiefly  gathered  from  Rogers's 
declining  days, —  reports  a  freak,  which,  small  as  it  seems 
in  the  record,  is  interesting  as  showing  that  as  a  boy  he 
was  greatly  under  the  influence  of  a  strong  imagination. 
There  was  a  children's  ball  at  his  father's  house,  at 
which  many  older  people  were  present.     Samuel  Rogers, 

1  I  have  not  seen  the  letter,  but  the  Rev.  Dr.  Sadler,  the  editor  of 
Crabb  Robinson's  Diary,  clearly  remembers  reading  it,  and  his  accuracy 
is  unquestionable. 


HE  ENTERS  ON  BUSINESS.  33 

then  about  thirteen,  was  dancing  a  minuet  with  a  pretty 
little  girl,  and  at  the  moment  when  he  should  have  put 
on  his  hat  and  given  both  hands  to  his  partner  he  threw 
the  hat  among  the  young  ladies  who  were  sitting  on  the 
benches,  creating  much  surprise  and  confusion.  ^This 
strange  feat,'  he  said  to  Mr.  Dyce,  ^was  occasioned  by 
my  suddenly  recollecting  a  story  of  some  gallant  youth 
who  had  signalized  himself  in  the  same  way.' 

He  probably  told  this  story  because  it  showed  an  un- 
regulated and  childish  form  of  the  desire  for  distinction 
which  was  an  important  element  of  his  character  as  a 
young  man.  There  seemed  but  little  chance  of  his  dis- 
tinguishing himself  when  he  left  school.  He  was  the 
third  son,  and  his  proper  place,  in  his  father's  view,  was 
a  stool  in  'the  shop,'  as  it  was  the  custom  to  call  the 
bank.  To  the  bank,  therefore,  he  went.  His  eldest 
brother,  Daniel,  had  already  gone  to  Cambridge.  Daniel 
was  intended  for  the  bar.  His  father  thought  of  him  as 
the  member  of  the  family  most  likely  to  distinguish  him- 
self, and  probably  anticipated  his  entering  Parliament 
and  reaching  the  higher  ranks  of  the  profession.  But 
Daniel  never  took  either  to  the  law  or  to  banking.  He 
lived  and  died  a  country  gentleman.  Thomas  and  Sam- 
uel were  to  be  the  bankers,  and  they  went  to  business 
instead  of  to  the  university.  The  London  of  those  days 
was  a  very  different  place  from  the  London  of  the  present 
generation.  Pew  of  the  merchants  or  bankers  lived,  as 
the  Rogerses  did,  away  in  the  suburbs.  Some  years  later, 
when  Mr.  Jones  Loyd  came  to  London,  he  dwelt  over  his 
bank  in  Lothbury,  and  there  the  late  Lord  Overstone  was 
born  in  1796.  On  Temple  Bar  there  was  a  ghastly  relic 
which  testified  to  the  barbarity  of  the  times,  for  Rogers 
remembered  seeing  one  of  the  heads  of  the  rebels  still 
exposed  upon  its  pole.  It  was  the  London  which  Dickens 
has  admirably  described  in  '  Barnaby  Rudge ; '  the  Lon- 
don of  the  Gordon  Riots.     Rogers  recollected  the  excite- 

3 


34  EAELY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

ment  and  the  horrors  of  the  time.  He  had  already  gone 
to  business  when  the  riots  occurred;  and  one  of  his 
most  vivid  recollections  was  that  of  seeing  a  cartload 
of  young  girls,  in  colored  dresses,  passing  through  the 
streets  on  the  way  to  execution  at  Tyburn.  They  had 
been  condemned  to  death  for  taking  part  in  the  riots, 
though  in  all  probability  they  had  done  little  more  than 
look  on. 

There  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  Samuel  Eogers 
exhibited  any  strong  disinclination  to  go  to  business. 
The  poetical  temperament  is  often  intolerant  of  drudgery; 
but  he  had  been  too  dutifully  brought  up  to  allow  him 
to  waste  time  and  strength  in  protests  against  conditions 
he  could  not  alter.  Such  sentimental  complaints  as 
Kirke  White  afterwards  indulged  against  the  employ- 
ment which  was  generously  given  him  in  Mr.  Enfield's 
office  at  Nottingham,  were  not  likely  to  arise  from  a  boy 
nurtured  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  Stoke  Newington 
home.  It  was  a  disappointment  to  Rogers  that  he  was 
obliged  to  take  to  business  when  all  his  tastes  and 
inclinations  led  him  to  literature,  but  he  submitted 
without  repining.  If  banking  was  to  be  his  work, 
literature  should  be  his  recreation ;  and  if  the  one  was 
cheerfully  done  as  daily  duty,  the  other  should  be  joy- 
fully sought  as  a  source  of  never-ending  delight.  He 
never  contemplated  making  literature  his  profession. 
He  spoke  of  it  as  mere  drudgery  when  it  is  made  the 
business  of  life,  but  thought  that  when  it  is  resorted  to 
only  at  certain  hours  it  is  a  charming  relaxation.  In 
these  earlier  years  he  was  a  banker's  clerk,  obliged  to  be 
at  the  desk  every  day  from  ten  in  the  morning  till  five 
in  the  afternoon ;  but  he  never  forgot  the  delight  with 
which,  after  returning  home,  he  turned  to  the  reading 
and  writing  which  occupied  his  evening  leisure.  In  these 
days,  too,  he  was  not  without  a  lively  interest  in  politics. 
One  day,  in  the  general  election  of  1780,  Wilkes  came 


HIS  INTEREST  IN  POLITICS.  35 

into  the  bank  to  canvass  Mr.  Eogers.  He  was  out,  but 
Samuel  was  able  to  assure  the  popular  candidate  for 
Middlesex  of  his  father's  sympathy ;  and  felt  proud  at 
having  shaken  hands  with  him.  Wilkes  was  a  man  of 
good  manners,  but  ugly  and  with  a  squint.  He  was 
chamberlain  of  the  city,  and  Eogers  remembered  seeing 
him  going  to  the  Guildhall  on  foot,  in  a  scarlet  coat, 
military  boots,  and  a  bag-wig, — the  hackney  coachmen 
calling  to  him,  *  A  coach,  your  honor  ? '  but  calling  in 
vain.  When  Wilkes  called  to  canvass  him  Thomas 
Eogers  was  probably  at  Coventry,  where  he  was  one  of 
the  Whig  candidates.  His  colleague  was  Sir  Thomas 
Halifax,  and  the  Tory  candidates  were  Mr.  Edward  Eoe 
Yeo  and  Mr.  John  Baker  Holroyd,  afterwards  Lord 
Sheffield.  The  contest  was  one  which  attracted  great 
notice  at  the  time,  and  the  accounts  of  it  which  have 
been  preserved  illustrate  in  a  very  striking  way  the 
political  manners  and  customs  of  the  age.  Daniel 
Eogers  writes  to  Samuel ;  — 

*  Coventry,  Sept.  14  [1780]. 

'  Dear  Sammy,  —  As  I  have  no  doubt  you  are  anxious 
to  hear  of  our  health,  and  the  particulars  of  our  situa- 
tion, especially  at  such  a  riotous  period,  I  have  taken 
this  earliest  opportunity  of  answering  your  kind  letter 
to  my  father  by  return  of  post.  Few  words  are  neces- 
sary to  acquaint  you  with  the  state  of  the  election.  .  .  . 
Yesterday  and  to-day  the  booth  has  been  so  encompassed 
with  a  riotous  mob  that  the  poll  has  been  adjourned 
without  proceeding  to  business.  Every  equitable  propo- 
sition to  prevent  riot  and  confusion  has  been  rejected 
by  Mr.  Holroyd  and  Mr.  Yeo;  but  the  sheriffs  are 
determined  to  persevere  in  adjourning  the  poll  from  day 
to  day  till  the  freedom  of  election  is  restored.  At 
present  our  voters  are  obstructed,  beaten,  stripped,  and 
endangered  by  a  hired  mob  of  colliers  and  others  of  the 


36  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  EOGERS. 

like  stamp.  The  whole  affair  will  doubtless  be  misrepre- 
sented by  our  opponents  in  the  London  papers,  but  our 
friends  are  convinced  we  have  the  majority  of  voters; 
and  Mr.  Briggs,  who  has  examined  the  subject,  and  been 
remarkably  active,  is  of  the  same  opinion.  .  .  .  With 
compliments  to  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Price, 

^  I  remain  your  ever  affectionate 

*D.  EOGEKS.' 

This  letter  was  written  on  the  fifth  day  after  the  poll 
opened.  So  great  was  the  rioting  that  in  nine  days, 
from  the  9th  to  the  18th  of  September,  only  eighty-three 
persons  voted.  The  sheriffs,  determined  not  to  proceed 
with  the  election  till  peace  was  restored,  closed  the  poll 
on  the  ninth  day,  and  made  no  return.  The  new  House 
of  Commons  met  on  the  31st  of  October,  but  there  were 
no  members  from  Coventry,  and  the  sheriffs  were  accord- 
ingly summoned  to  the  Bar  of  the  House  and  eventually 
committed  to  prison,  and  on  their  release  were  repri- 
manded by  the  Speaker.  In  December  another  election 
was  held,  the  same  candidates  being  in  the  field.  Party 
feeling  still  ran  as  high  as  ever,  and  the  prolonged  poll- 
ing, which  lasted  more  than  a  fortnight,  gave  occasion 
for  all  kinds  of  disturbance.  The  election  is  described 
in  a  letter  from  his  father  to  Sam. 

Thomas  Bogers  to  Samuel  Rogers. 

'  Coventry,  Saturday  evening,  15th  December,  1780. 
'  Dear  Sammy,  —  I  have  received  several  kind  letters 
lately  from  the  Green,  but,  as  yours  was  the  last,  I  have 
laid  my  hand  first  upon  it.  I  wish  I  could  have  the 
happiness  to  make  one  of  your  party  this  evening  at  the 
Green,  but,  alas  !  I  am  still  confined  to  this  region  of 
discord  and  contention.  Coventry  seems  to  be  the  place 
where  every  unclean  bird  dwells  j  for  of  all  the  black- 


HIS  FATHER  A  CANDIDATE  FOR  PARLIAMENT.     37 

guards  in  the  universe  I  think  the  Coventry  Blues  are 
the  greatest.  They  still  seem  confident  of  success,  but 
I  think  on  Tuesday  night  they  will  have  found  out  their 
mistake.  It  may  possibly  end  then,  but  not  sooner. 
Total  number  polled  to-night,  2,317.  They  have  only 
about  forty  more  to  poll,  so  that  on  Monday  morning 
we  shall  soon  begin  to  regain  the  150  we  first  gave 
them.  I  have  been  a  good  deal  indisposed  by  a  cold; 
but,  by  attending  to  it  to-day,  I  am  now  much  relieved, 
and  doubt  not  by  Monday  morning  to  be  quite  well  as 
usual.  I  hope  to  return  to  my  children  and  family  life 
before  this  day  se'ennight,  and  to  exchange  a  scene  every 
way  hateful  for  one  of  peace,  happiness,  and  content.  I 
have  sent  you  one  of  our  new  songs,  which  I  hope  will 
please  you.  I  beg  my  kind  love  to  everybody. 
^  I  remain,  in  haste,  dear  Sam, 

*  Your  ever  affectionate  father, 

*Thos.  Eogers. 
*Mr.  Sam  Rogers, 
*  At  Messrs.  Welch  &  Comp^'", 
*  Comhill,  London.' 

Mr.  Rogers's  anticipations  were  realized.  The  poll  was 
declared  on  the  28th  December :  Sir  Thomas  Halifax, 
1,319;  Thomas  Rogers,  1,318;  Edward  R.  Yeo,  1,298; 
John  Baker  Holroyd,  1,295.  The  Tories  petitioned,  and 
a  Tory  election  committee,  as  was  inevitable  in  those 
days,  unseated  the  Whigs  and  gave  the  seats  to  their 
defeated  opponents.  Thomas  Rogers  never  stood  again 
at  any  election.  Neither  the  morals  nor  the  manners  of 
elections  in  those  times  were  congenial  to  him,  and  his  own 
strong  political  convictions  were  in  advance  of  the  age. 

There  is  a  further  curious  illustration  of  the  elections 
of  the  reign  of  George  the  Third,  ninety  years  before 
the  ballot,  in  a  letter  written  to  Thomas  Rogers  during 
the  Bristol  election  in  January,  1781. 


38  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 


John  Bdbinson  to  Thomas  Bogers. 

^  Dear  Sir,  —  I  wrote  you  from  Namptwich  \_sic]^  and 
at  the  same  time  enclosed  proposals  from  Harrison  and 
Houghton's  house,  to  which  I  suppose  you  have  given 
them  an  answer.  I  am  now  at  Bristol,  where  they  have 
this  day  begun  a  contested  election  for  a  member  in  the 
room  of  the  late  Mr.  Lippintot,  deceased.  The  candidates 
are  Mr.  Cruger  and  Mr.  Daubeny.  They  poll  in  tallies 
of  ten  each.  They  have  polled  to-day  (after  squabbling 
about  three  hours  before  the  opening  of  the  poll)  six 
tallies  each,  and  nine  single  freeholders,  so  that  they 
stand  equally,  —  sixty-nine  each.  The  Blues  are,  in  their 
own  opinion,  very  secure  of  their  election  of  Mr.  Dau- 
beny, but  I  think,  myself,  from  what  I  have  heard  and 
seen,  that  Cruger  will  run  him  hard.  He  has  by  much, 
to  a  stranger,  the  greatest  share  of  popularity ;  and  if 
the  gentlemen  who  manage  for  him  mind  what  they  are 
about  I  am  of  opinion  he  will  get  his  election.  They  are 
extremely  riotous,  have  already  pulled  down  the  board 
that  directed  the  freemen  the  road  to  Daubeny's  polling- 
place,  and  knocked  down  several  in  the  street  of  Dau- 
beny's  party.  I  shall  be  at  Coventry  in  about  eight  days 
from  this,  where  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  receive  a  letter 
from  you  directed  to  the  King's  Head  there.  If  I  can 
say  or  do  anything  there  pray  command  me.  I  shall  go 
from  thence  through  Birmingham  and  Stourbridge,  where 
I  shall  do  myself  the  pleasure  of  paying  a  visit  to  Miss 
Kogers.  Some  gentlemen,  before  the  poll  began  to-day, 
taxed  Daubeny  with  attempting  to  compromise  with 
another  party  at  the  last  election.  As  you  will  see  by  the 
enclosed  paper,  the  Dissenters  of  all  denominations  are 
for  Cruger ;  and  the  Quakers  —  who  are  numerous  here, 
and  you  know  are  in  general  a  quiet  set  of  people — were 
the  first  who  mounted  the  rostrum  to  poll.     I  can  say  no 


SOCIETY  IN  WORCESTERSHIRE.  39 

more  now,  and  you  must  excuse  the  incorrectness  of  wliat 
I  have  said,  for  there  is  a  noise  here  almost  sufficient  to 
crack  the  drum  of  a  man's  ear. 

^  So  must  subscribe  myself,  dear  Sir, 

'  Your  very  humble  servant, 

*JOHN   EOBINSON. 

'Bristol,  Jan.  30,  1781.' 

Mr.  Cruger,  the  Whig  candidate,  was  defeated.  He 
had  been  Burke's  colleague  in  the  Parliament  of  1774, 
and  made  the  celebrated  speech  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, —  *  Mr.  Speaker,  I  say  ditto  to  Mr.  Burke ;  I  say 
ditto  to  Mr.  Burke.' 

Thomas  Eogers  the  elder  had  died  a  few  years  before 
this,  and  his  daughters  continued  to  live  at  *  The  Hill,' 
where  the  elder  members  of  the  family  from  Newington 
Green  often  visited  them.  These  visits  during  the  life 
of  their  grandfather,  and  afterwards  to  their  aunts,  were 
something  more  than  journeys  to  the  country.  They 
were  excursions  into  another  social  atmosphere,  another 
political  climate,  another  world.  Thomas  Eogers  was 
there  every  summer,  and  his  letters  to  Sam  give  a  lively 
picture  of  the  society  of  the  neighborhood.  On  the  14th 
of  August,  1781,  he  writes :  *  We  were  last  week  entirely 
taken  up  by  Lord  and  Lady  Yalentia,  who  were  upon  a 
visit  to  "The  Hill"  from  Monday  to  Saturday.  This 
visit  has  brought  on  another  from  this  family  to  Arley, 
Lord  Valentia's  house,  which  takes  place  to-morrow,  and 
in  which  I  am  compelled  to  take  a  part.  We  shall  re- 
turn on  Friday.  I  look  upon  these  engagements  as  near 
a  fortnight's  loss  to  me.  Tom  left  us  on  Sunday  even- 
ing. He  intended  sleeping  that  night  at  Lichfield,  and 
on  Monday  at  Derby.  The  races  were  to  begin  to-day.' 
On  the  6th  of  September  he  says  :  ^  We  pass  our  time  so 
uniformly  that  I  have  nothing  to  communicate  worth 
your   notice.     Among  the   changes  which  have  taken 


40  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

place  in  this  neighborhood,  chance  has  brought  to  Mr. 
Amphlett's  house  at  Clent  a  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blair,  both 
Scotch.  They  live  in  one  of  the  polite  squares,  keep 
many  servants,  live  in  a  high  style,  and  are  famous  for 
musical  parties.  Mrs.  Blair  sings  delightfully,  and  is 
called  "the  inimitable  Blair."  As  they  visit  a  good 
deal,  and  Mrs.  Blair  sings  whenever  she  is  asked,  and 
without  the  least  ceremony,  they  are  considered  as  an 
acquisition  to  the  county.  But  I  am  afraid  they  will  not 
stay  long,  as  they  are  said  not  to  think  their  house  good 
enough,  and  occasionally  give  themselves  some  conse- 
quential airs  of  that  sort  which  some  of  their  neighbors 
do  not  seem  to  relish.  As  Mrs.  Blair  is  a  lady  of  so 
much  tone,  I  thought  I  w^ould  introduce  her  to  you.  .  .  . 
We  were  told  last  week  that  the  combined  fleets  were  in 
the  Channel,  but  we  disregarded  it;  the  papers  to-day 
confirm  it,  but  nobody  seems  to  think  it  a  circumstance 
of  any  moment,  and  I  suppose  the  same  torpid  indiffer- 
ence prevails  through  the  country  generally.' 

The  visits  to  and  from  the  Valentias  were  repeated  in 
later  summers,  and  Mr.  Eogers,  in  his  frequent  visits  to 
^  The  Hill,'  seems  to  have  entered  with  great  zest  into  the 
pleasures  and  amusements  of  the  country  life  to  which  he 
had  been  accustomed  in  his  early  days.  He  writes  on  the 
6th  of  October,  1783 :  '  Our  Assembly  is  fixed  for  next 
Monday,  which  will  give  us  pleasure  on  Martha's  account, 
as  I  hope  there  will  be  a  smart  dance.  ...  It  is  so  cele- 
brated a  meeting  that  there  are  generally  four  or  five 
hairdressers  from  Worcester  and  Birmingham  come  over 
to  attend  the  ladies,  as  the  friseurs  of  the  town  are  not 
found  sufficient.'  In  October,  1785,  he  reports  the  first 
Assembly  of  the  season  at  Stourbridge,  and  adds  :  *  Four 
of  your  aunts  and  myself  were  there,  and  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  meeting  Captain  and  Mrs.  Cox  and  many  friends.' 
He  notes,  moreover,  two  new  features  of  country  life. 
The  first  mail-coach  had  been  started  at  Bristol  in  1784, 


ESTABLISHMENT  OF  SUNDAY-SCHOOLS.  41 

and  in  1785  mail-coaches  spread  rapidly  all  over  the 
country.  ^  The  extension  of  the  mail-coaches/  says 
Thomas  Eogers,  in  a  letter  to  Sarah  Eogers,  on  the  18th 
of  October,  1785,  *  makes  the  country  towns  very  gay. 
We  have  one  comes  from  Birmingham  to  Stourbridge, 
and  from  hence  to  Bewdley  every  day  but  Monday ;  and 
the  king's  arms  on  the  coach,  and  the  scarlet  and  gold 
livery  of  the  coachman,  please  the  populace  much.' 

Another  innovation  of  the  time  was  the  establishment 
of  Sunday  Schools.  The  Eev.  Theophilus  Lindsey  had 
established  such  a  school  at  Catterick  in  1764,  and  Miss 
Hannah  Ball  at  High  Wycombe  in  1769 ;  but  the  move- 
ment had  been  made  general  by  the  success  of  the  school 
Mr.  Robert  Eaikes  had  opened  at  St.  Mary-le-Crypt  in 
Gloucester  in  1781.  So  in  this  same  letter  Thomas  Eogers 
reports  in  1785 :  '  Mr.  Foley,  the  rector  of  the  parish,  and 
several  gentlemen,  are  very  busy  in  drawing  up  a  plan 
for  Sunday  Schools.  Sufficient  money  is  raised,  but  the 
school-houses  are  not  yet  fixed  upon,  nor  the  masters  and 
mistresses  appointed.  There  will  be  about  six  for  boys, 
and  the  same  number  for  girls.'  He  adds  a  wish  which 
was  realized  fifty-five  years  afterwards  by  some  of  his 
descendants  :  ^  I  hope  the  gentlemen  of  Islington  and 
the  Green  will  establish  some  in  the  neighborhood.  I 
wish  one  or  two  could  be  established  at  the  Green,  and 
the  children  brought  to  meeting,  as  I  know  no  place 
where  there  are  so  many  poor  people  with  so  little  attend- 
ance upon  public  worship.' 

The  autumn  of  1786  finds  him  again  at  '  The  Hill,' 
and  he  writes  to  Sara,  who  had  just  returned  from 
Brighton,  of  some  delightful  excursions  they  had  made. 
'  One  to  Downton,  to  Dick  Knight's  Castle,  and  over  a 
lofty  range  of  hills  in  that  neighborhood,  commanding 
Herefordshire,  Shropshire,  and  part  of  Wales.'  The 
other  excursion  was  to  Mr.  Harley's  at  Berrington,  near 
Leominster.     <  The  house  not  large,  but  taking  in  horses' 


4:2  EAELY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

stables,  gardens,  with  the  establishment  of  servants,  the 
whole  may  be  called  princely.  No  park  and  not  much 
shrubbery,  but  some  hundred  acres  of  ground,  beautiful 
in  situation,  laid  out  in  great  taste,  and  kept  up  at  a 
profusion  of  expense.'  In  this  letter  he  expresses  the 
hope  that  in  Tom's  absence  Sam  will  get  early  to  town, 
and  attend  as  much  as  possible  to  Mr.  Welch's  ease, 
doing  everything  he  can  to  relieve  him  from  too  much 
application. 

In  most  of  these  letters  he  speaks  of  Sam's  health.  In 
1781  Sam  had  gone  to  Margate,  and  his  father  strongly 
recommends  him  to  take  horse  exercise,  promising  to 
send  the  brown  mare  if  he  cannot  get  a  decent  horse  by 
hiring.  Sam  had  said  something  about  dancing,  and  his 
father  expresses  the  hope  that  he  will  ^  be  so  prudent  in 
the  use  of  it  as  not,  like  Penelope,  to  undo  by  night  the 
work  of  the  day.'  Year  after  year  there  are  references 
in  the  letters  to  a  weakness  of  the  eyes  from  which.  Sam 
was  suffering.  He  seems  to  have  had  a  very  odd  experi- 
ence with  respect  to  them.  One  of  his  poems  is  entitled 
'  To  the  Gnat,'  and  admirably  describes  in  sixteen  lines 
the  ^  whirring  wings '  and  *  shrill  horn '  of  the  mosquito. 
If  it  had  been  written  on  Staten  Island,  near  New  York, 
or  in  some  other  place  haunted  by  the  scourge  of  conti- 
nental climates,  it  could  not  have  pictured  more  graphi- 
cally the  possible  horrors  of  an  autumn  night ;  but 
addressed  to  our  poor  English  midge,  the  lines  seem 
exaggerated,  and  Mr.  Sharpe  thinks  the  piece  might 
have  been  written  in  order  that  it  might  end  in  mock- 
heroic  style  with  Dryden's  line,  — 

*  They  wake  in  horror  and  dare  sleep  no  more.  * 

Yet  Rogers  always  declared  that  the  lines  literally 
described  his  own  experience.  In  his  young  days  the 
gnats  at  Stoke  Newington  distressed  him  as  the  mos- 
quitoes plague  an  Englishman  who  without  due  precau- 


MARGATE  IN  1785.  43 

tions  ventures  to  sleep  with  an  open  window  in  some 
parts  of  the  United  States.  His  eyes,  he  says,  were 
often  swollen  with  the  bites  of  gnats  when  he  woke  in 
the  morning.  This  annoyance  was  probably  due  to  his 
weak  health.  Every  year  during  his  clerkship  at  the 
bank  he  took  long  holidays  at  Margate  or  at  Brighton ; 
year  after  year  sea-bathing  and  horse  exercise  were 
recommended  him  by  the  doctors,  and  he  found  benefit 
from  them.  His  father  had  to  exhort  him  not  to  spend 
too  much  time  in  reading,  but  to  lay  his  favorite  books 
aside  and  look  after  his  health.  In  the  summer  of  1785 
he  writes  to  his  father :  — 

*Maegate,  24  Sept.,  '85. 

'  Dear  Sib,  —  I  arrived  here  last  Tuesday  night,  after 
a  very  pleasant  journey.  The  hop-picking  had  thrown 
an  air  of  gayety  over  the  country,  and  women  and  chil- 
dren were  everywhere  singing  songs  and  filling  their 
baskets.  The  weather  has  been  very  changeable,  and  the 
showers  so  partial  that  yesterday  when  I  was  riding  with 
Mr.  Seawell  (who  is  here,  and  boards  in  the  same  house 
with  me)  a  very  heavy  shower  fell  within  twenty  yards 
of  us,  and  we  could  distinctly  see  the  drops.  Margate  is 
rather  full,  but  the  height  of  the  season  seems  to  be  past. 
Mr.  Seawell  and  myself  propose  to  take  a  little  trip  to 
Calais  next  week,  and  on  our  return  to  Dover  I  shall  be 
met  by  Mr.  Joseph  Collier,  who  will  accompany  me  along 
the  coast  to  Brighthelmstone.  Mr.  Wm.  Maltby  is  there 
for  his  health,  which  is  very  indifferent,  and  I  hope  to 
stay  there  a  week  or  ten  days.  The  sea  has  been  very 
calm  since  I  came,  and  I  have  bathed  every  morning. 
As  we  shall  make  easy  journeys  every  day,  I  mean  to 
bathe  at  Eye  and  Eastbourne.  Mr.  Bearcroft  and  his 
family  are  here,  and  are  extremely  civil  to  me.  I  walked 
down  to  the  pier  this  morning,  and  counted  twenty-four 
West  India  merchantmen,  which  are  just  visible  on  the 


44  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGEES. 

line  of  the  horizon.  I  have  found  the  sea  air  have  the 
same  effect  it  used  to  have,  and  my  appetite  is  so  keen 
that  I  am  sometimes  ashamed  of  it.  I  beg  my  duty  to 
my  aunts,  and  my  love  to  my  cousins  ;  and  remain,  dear 
Sir, 

'  Your  dutiful  and  affectionate  son, 

*Saml.  Eogers.' 

He  was  at  this  time  preparing  his  first  book  for  the 
press,  but  there  is  not  a  hint  concerning  it  in  any  of  his 
letters.  There  is,  however,  a  letter  from  his  sister  Maria, 
written  when  she  was  twelve  or  thirteen  years  old,  which 
supplies  the  material  for  a  slight  sketch  of  Kogers's 
evenings  at  home  in  these  early  days.  Maria  speaks  of 
being  with  him  in  the  study  when  he  is  reading  and  she 
is  writing,  and  her  only  pleasure  is  to  look  up  to  him 
from  time  to  time,  wishing  to  know  his  thoughts.  She 
speaks  in  most  affectionate  terms  of  his  kindness  in  al- 
ways doing  everything  to  oblige  her,  and  says  she  is  sure 
there  is  not  one  brother  in  a  hundred  who  so  behaves  to 
his  sister.  In  the  Kogers's  house  the  law  in  the  library 
was  that  of  silence  when  any  one  was  reading  or  writing. 
Samuel  could  therefore  sit  and  write  comparatively  un- 
disturbed, and  had  not  to  learn,  like  Maria  Edgeworth, 
to  compose  amid  the  prattle  of  a  family.  Communica- 
tion was  to  be  by  correspondence,  and  the  letters  were 
put  in  a  place  in  the  library  called  the  ^Post  Office.' 
There  Maria  placed  her  letters,  and  there  she  found  her 
brother's  answers  after  he  had  gone  to  business  in  the 
morning.  In  this  way  a  correspondence  was  carried  on 
between  a  brother  and  sister  living  under  the  same  roof ; 
and  Maria  says  of  Samuel's  letters  :  ^  If  I  am  grave  they 
make  me  merry,  and  if  I  am  merry  I  still  continue  so.' 
As  Samuel's  eyes  were  weak,  his  sisters  sometimes  read 
to  him ;  and  it  is  easy  to  picture  the  pleasant  scene  in 
the  study  on  many  an  evening  in  those  happy  years,  — 


BEGINNINGS  OF  AUTHORSHIP.  45 

the  girls  writing  or  reading  or  preparing  their  lessons,  the 
brothers  sitting  with  them  at  similar  work,  and  Samuel, 
the  literary  brother,  studying  the  poets  or  himself  writ- 
ing what  he  hoped  might  live,  or,  like  a  later  and  less 
fortunate  aspirant  for  fame,  with  old  bards  of  honor- 
able name,  measuring  his  soul  severely.  In  this  way  he 
became  an  author. 


CHAPTEE  III. 

Early  "Writings.  —  '  The  Scribbler.'  —  *  Vintage  of  Burgundy.'  —  *  Ode 
to  Superstition.'  —  Smaller  Poems. 

EoGERS  did  not  begin  poetical  composition  very  early 
in  life.  He  did  not  lisp  in  numbers,  for  lie  was  probably 
far  beyond  boyhood  when  the  numbers  came.  He  had 
been  kept  at  school  rather  longer  than  Walter  Scott,  who 
was  only  fourteen  when,  to  use  his  own  words,  he  ^  en- 
tered on  the  dry  and  barren  wilderness  of  forms  and 
conveyances'  in  his  father's  office.  Kogers  entered  his 
father's  bank  when  he  was  sixteen  or  seventeen,  and  he 
made  his  jBrst  literary  venture  before  he  was  eighteen. 
He  went  to  business  later  than  Scott,  but  plunged  into 
authorship  much  earlier  than  his  great  friend  and  con- 
temporary. His  first  printed  efforts  were  not  in  verse. 
They  consisted  of  a  brief  series  of  papers  published  in 
successive  numbers  of  the  ^  Gentleman's  Magazine.'  Like 
most  early  efforts,  these  essays  are  imitations ;  and  as 
might  be  expected.  Dr.  Johnson  is  the  model.  Eogers 
never  saw  Johnson.  He  records  having  met  old  General 
Oglethorpe  at  the  sale  of  Dr.  Johnson's  library.  But 
the  great  autocrat  of  literature  was  still  exerting  his 
undisputed  sway  when  Eogers  was  meditating  author- 
ship, and  he  felt  for  him  not  only  the  reverence  which 
was  then  universal,  but  that  which  young  ambition  feels 
for  old  and  established  fame.  One  day,  in  early  youth,  he 
and  his  friend  William  Maltby  went  to  call  on  Johnson 
at  his  house  in  Bolt  Court.  *  I  had  my  hand  upon  the 
knocker,'  said  Eogers,  in  telling  the  story,  ^when  our 


THE  SCEIBBLER.  47 

courage  failed  us  and  we  retreated/  Boswell  told  them 
many  years  afterwards  that  they  should  have  gone  boldly 
in,  for  the  great  man  would  have  received  them  kindly. 
Johnson  died  in  December,  1784,  —  more  than  a  year  be- 
fore Eogers  printed  his  first  poem,  —  so  that  he  and  his 
friend  could  have  had  no  such  introduction  as  the  pres- 
entation of  a  book  might  give  them  ;  and  it  is  not  likely 
that,  in  those  early  days,  his  literary  friends  could  give 
him  an  introduction  to  a  man  who  would  probably  de- 
cline to  know  or  recognize  them.  Nor  is  there  any  reason 
whatever  to  think  that  Rogers  was  sufficiently  content 
with  his  imitations  of  Johnson  to  have  ventured  to  call 
Ms  attention  to  them.  « 

These  short  pieces  are  only  worthy  of  notice  as  the 
earliest  productions  of  a  writer  who  afterwards  attained 
wide  celebrity  on  a  different  field.  It  was  the  custom 
of  the  Sylvanus  Urban  of  those  days  to  print  in  his 
magazine  short  series  of  papers,  under  titles  evidently 
suggested  by  the  ^Kambler.' 

Samuel  Eogers  gave  his  papers  the  title  of  *The 
Scribbler,'  ahd  the  following  is  the  first  number,  which 
appeared  in  February,  1781:  — 

THE  SCEIBBLER,  No.  I. 

Ut  scriptor  cyclicus  olim.  —  Hoe. 

Prompted  by  the  ambition  of  appearing  in  print,  the  Scribbler 
here  obtrudes  his  compositions  on  the  pubHc.  His  character  may 
obstruct  his  success,  but  it  precludes  disappointment,  for  no  one 
can  conceive  very  sanguine  expectations  of  entertainment  from 
the  Scribbler. 

Though  his  Essays  be  not  favored  with  a  perusal,  though  the 
appellation  he  has  assumed  repress  curiosity  or  excite  contempt, 
the  satisfaction  he  will  feel  at  seeing  himself  in  print  will  amply 
compensate  the  mortification  of  neglect. 

If  they  be  favorably  received  it  will  indeed  be  an  additional 
pleasure ;  if  not,  he  will  not  be  dejected,  nor,  like  Cowley,  form 


48  EARLY  LITE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

the  chimerical  design  of  secluding  himseK  from  society  and  re- 
nouncing the  chief  pleasures  of  life. 

He  solicits  the  contributions  of  all  who  are  influenced  by  the 
same  motives  which  he  has  adduced  for  the  publication  of  his 
productions,  but  declines  a  correspondence  with  those  who  have 
the  vanity  to  aspire  to  literary  eminence. 

This  introduction  may  be  regarded  as  singular,  but  the  Scrib- 
bler disdains  the  practice  of  averting  the  displeasure  of  the  reader 
by  servile  submission,  or  by  affecting  that  diffidence  which  he 
does  not  possess. 

Had  he  been  a  native  of  Athens,  or  had  he  even  resided  in 
Rome  in  the  Augustan  age,  he  would  certainly  have  never  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  appearing  in  print,  nor  have  been  sensible  of 
the  bliss  of  publication. 

This  is  a  species  of  luxury  of  which  the  Ancients  were  entirely 
ignorant ;  which  even  the  Despots  of  Asia  had  never  the  felicity 
to  enjoy.  Applause  can  never  be  conferred  adequate  to  the 
merits  of  the  discoverer  of  so  exquisite  a  pleasure. 

To  his  memory  —  to  the  memory  of 

FAUSTUS  OF  MENTZ; 

Who  by  the  invention  of  the  art  of  printing 

Has  ultimately  contributed  more  to  the  happiness  of  Empires 

Than  all  the  conquerors  and  legislators  of  antiquity, 

This  Bagatelle 

is  inscribed  by  his  grateful  admirer, 

(To  he  continued  regularly  every  month.') 


The  same  strain  was  continued  in  the  next  number, 
which  began  by  describing  the  raptures  he  felt  at  seeing 
himself  in  print.  The  third  paper  was  on  ^  Eloquence/ 
the  fourth  was  on  *  the  Ancients  and  Moderns/  and  was 
reproduced  by  Mr.  Dyce  in  his  Table  Talk;  the  fifth 
was  a  story  entitled  the  ^  Pupil  of  Nature,'  supposed  to 
be  translated  from  the  Erse,  with  the  statement  that 
*Shakspeare  had  probably  seen  it  when  he  wrote  the 


THE  SCRIBBLER.  49 

tragedy  of  Macbeth. ; '  the  sixth,  ^  On  the  Kegions  of  the 
Blest/  a  rhapsody,  with  Cicero's  words  for  a  text :  *  0 
prgeclarum  diem,  cum  ad  illud  divinum  animarum  con- 
cilium coetumque  proficiscar,  cumque  ex  hac  turba  et 
colluvione  discedam  ! '  The  seventh  was  on  the  *  Temple 
of  Fashion,'  quoted  below ;  and  the  eighth,  misnumbered 
seven  in  the  magazine,  is  on  '  Virtue.'  Mr.  Dyce  thinks 
these  papers  were  ^  quite  up  to  the -standard  of  the 
periodical  writing  of  the  time,'  and  some  of  them  are 
clearly  superior  to  those  which  were  published  contem- 
poraneously with  them.  The  one  which  Mr.  Dyce  quotes 
*  as  a  curiosity,'  though  it  shows  industry,  is  by  no  means 
equal  in  merit  to  some  others  of  the  series.  That  on 
the  ^  Temple  of  Fashion,'  quoted  seventy-five  years  after- 
wards by  Mr.  Hay  ward  in  the  ^  Edinburgh  Review '  article 
on  Samuel  Eogers,  is  perhaps  the  best  of  the  series.  It 
is  written,  says  the  ^Edinburgh'  *with  a  freedom  and 
rhythmical  flow  which  are  rarely  found  in  essayists  of 
eighteen.' 

THE  SCRIBBLER,  No.  VII. 

Sed  nihil  est  magnum  somnianti.  —  CiC 

Reflecting  the  other  evening  on  the  influence  of  Fashion,  I 
insensibly  fell  asleep,  and  imagined  myself  suddenly  transported 
into  a  magnificent  temple,  in  the  centre  of  which,  elevated  on  a 
pedestal,  stood  a  female  of  very  light,  capricious  air,  attended  by 
numbers  of  both  sexes,  who  were  burning  incense  on  her  altar. 
But  what  astonished  me  most  was  that  the  scene  experienced  a 
perpetual  change.  When  she  waved  her  hand  the  columns  of 
the  temple,  which  were  first  of  the  Ionic,  became  of  the  Corin- 
thian order,  the  stucco  wall  appeared  hung  with  the  richest  tap- 
estry, the  fretted  ceiling  swelled  into  a  dome,  and  the  marble 
pavement  assumed  a  carpet  of  the  brightest  tints.  These,  after 
innumerable  transformations,  were  revived,  once  more  to  pass 
through  the  same  revolutions. 

Whether  she  heightened  with  a  pencil  the  vermilion  of  her 
cheeks  or  clothed  her  limbs  with  a  close  or  flowing  vest ;  whether 

4 


50  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

she  collected  her  ringlets  in  a  knot  or  suffered  them  to  hang 
negligently  on  her  shoulders  ;  whether  she  shook  the  dice,  waked 
the  lyre,  or  filled  the  sparkling  glass,  —  she  was  imitated  by  her 
votaries,  who  vied  with  each  other  in  obsequiousness  and  rever- 
ence. All  united  in  presenting  their  oblations,  —  either  their 
health,  their  fortunes,  or  their  integrity.  Though  numbers  inces- 
santly disappeared,  the  assembly,  receiving  continual  supplies, 
preserved  its  grandeur  and  brilliancy.  At  the  entrance  I  observed 
Vanity  fantastically  tcrowned  with  flowers  and  feathers,  to  whom 
the  fickle  deity  committed  the  initiation  of  her  votaries.  These 
having  fluttered  as  gayly  as  their  predecessors,  in  a  few  moments 
vanished  and  were  succeeded  by  others.  All  who  rejected  the 
soUcitations  of  Vanity  were  compelled  to  enter  by  Ridicule, 
whose  shafts  were  universally  dreaded.  Even  Literature,  Science, 
and  Philosophy  were  obliged  to  comply.  Those  only  escaped 
who  were  concealed  beneath  the  veil  of  Obscurity.  As  I  gazed 
on  this  glittering  scene,  having  declined  the  invitation  of  Vanity, 
Ridicule  shot  an  arrow  from  her  bow  which  pierced  my  heart ;  I 
fainted,  and  in  the  violence  of  my  agitation  awaked. 

The  publication  of  these  essays  in  the  months  from. 
February  to  September,  1781,  gave  their  young  author 
great  encouragement.  His  nephew,  Mr.  Samuel  Sharpe, 
in  his  sketch  of  Eogers's  Life  describes  him  as  looking 
forward  every  month  ^  to  the  day  of  these  papers  appear- 
ing with  boyish  eagerness.  As  the  magazine  reached  him 
in  the  morning  it  was  brought  into  his  bedroom  before  he 
was  out  of  bed,  and,  month  by  month,  as  he  cut  its  wet 
pages,  and  found  that  the  publisher  had  decided  that 
his  essay  was  deserving  of  publication,  he  was  more  and 
more  fixed  in  his  purpose  to  be  an  author.'  None  of  the 
later  pleasures,  even  of  successful  authorship,  equal  this, 
the  first  and  earliest  satisfaction  that  is  given  to  the  ^last 
infirmity  of  noble  minds.'  It  is  not  fame,  but  it  seems 
like  the  promise  of  fame.  It  gives  young  energies  a 
sense  of  boundless  opportunity  in  which  to  prove  their 
quality,  and  conquer  the  empire  for  which  they  long. 

The  imitation  of  Johnson  was  a  passing  phase ;  and 


HIS  LITERAKY  TASTES.  61 

the  writing  of  essays  was  soon  dropped  for  more  con- 
genial work.  In  the  next  year,  1782,  we  find  him  al- 
ready engaged  in  poetical  composition.  From  the  first 
he  had  poetry  in  view,  and  his  love  of  poetry,  even  his 
desire  to  be  a  poet,  had  been  known  and  recognized  from 
comparatively  early  years.  In  1775  Mason  published 
the  '  Life  and  Letters  of  Gray,'  with  an  edition  of  his 
poems ;  and  Samuel  Kogers,  then  twelve  years  old,  read 
them  with  delight.  Some  years  later,  wlien  he  went  to 
business,  he  walked  to  town  in  the  morning  with  Gray's 
poems  in  his  hand,  and  could  repeat  them  all.  He  ad- 
mired the  letters  as  much  as  the  poems.  They  had  for 
him,  he  said,  an  inexpressible  charm.  He  thought  them 
to  be  as  witty  as  Walpole's,  and  to  have  what  he  thought 
Walpole's  wanted,  —  true  wisdom.  But  Gray  was  not 
his  earliest  teacher.  In  1771,  the  year  in  which  Gray 
died,  and  when  Wordsworth  was  but  twelve  months  old, 
the  first  and  best  part  of  Beattie's  '  Minstrel '  appeared. 
Eogers  was  then  a  boy,  and  it  was  probably  a  year  or 
two  later,  when  on  a  summer  evening  he  took  down  the 
volume  from  the  library  shelf  and  read  the  story  of 
*  Edwin'  with  that  kindling  sympathy  which  was  the 
stirring  within  him  of  his  own  share  in  the  divine  gift 
of  genius.  He  never  forgot  that  first  experience  of  the 
poet's  spell.  It  might  be  described  in  Wordsworth's 
lines  in  his  autobiographical  poem :  — 

*  Twice  five  years 
Or  less  I  might  have  seen,  when  first  my  mind 
With  conscious  pleasure  opened  to  the  charm 
Of  words  in  tuneful  order  ;  found  them  sweet 
For  their  own  sakes,  a  passion  and  a  power.* 

This  seems  to  have  been  the  dawn  of  his  genius.  It 
woke  up  the  love  of  song,  and  sent  him  to  study  with 
enthusiasm  the  chief  poets  of  the  time.  He  soon  turned 
from  Beattie  to  Goldsmith,  and  from  Goldsmith  to  Gray. 


52  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Goldsmith's  ^  Traveller  ^  was  published  in  the  year  after 
Eogers  was  born,  and  the  ^  Deserted  Village'  in  1770 ; 
and  these  were  among  the  poems  on  which  his  youthful 
fancy  was  fed.  He  soon  went  back,  of  course,  to  older 
and  even  greater  masters;  but  his  boyhood's  love  of 
poetry  was  nourished  by  the  popular  poets  of  the  time. 
One  of  the  sweetest  bits  of  early  praise  which  reached 
his  ears  was  the  description  of  him  as  '  a  child  of  Gold- 
smith.' But  he  was  something  more.  It  is  needless  to 
say  that  a  young  man  of  poetical  ambition  in  the  second 
half  of  the  eighteenth  century  was  a  careful  student  of 
Pope  and  Dryden.  Eogers  sat  at  the  feet  of  both  these 
great  men,  but  his  preference  was  for  Dryden.  His 
father  advised  him  to  study  Pope's  ^  Homer,'  but,  with 
all  his  love  and  reverence  for  the  poet  of  the  ^  Dunciad ' 
and  the  ^  Essay  on  Man,'  he  could  never  like  Pope's 
translation  of  the  'Iliad'  and  the  'Odyssey.'  When 
Cowper's  version  of  'Homer'  appeared  in  1791  he  ad- 
mired it  greatly  and  read  it  again  and  again.  The  gentle 
singer  of  '  John  Gilpin '  and  the  '  Task '  was,  however,  a 
contemporary  of  Eogers,  and  cannot  be  numbered  among 
his  early  teachers. ^  Those  teachers  were  Gray  and  Gold- 
smith, Dryden  and  Pope;  but  the  influence  which  the 
elders  in  the  brotherhood  of  genius  possess  over  its 
younger  sons  was  exerted  in  Eogers's  case  chiefly  by 
Gray  and  Goldsmith.  Gray  inspired  him  first  and  Gold- 
smith afterwards,  but  he  was  himself  from  first  to  last. 
In  his  imaginative  boyhood  when,  like  Beattie's  'Edwin,' 
though  for  reasons  of  health  rather  than  of  feeling,  — 

'  Concourse  and  noise  and  toil  he  ever  fled,  ' 

Nor  cared  to  mingle  in  the  clamorous  fray/  — 

he  may  have  thought  himself  to  be  not  unlike  that  hero 
of  his  favorite  poem.    The  excitement  with  which  he 

1  *  John  Gilpin '  was  published  in  the  *  Repository '  in  1783,  and  the 
*  Task '  was  issued  in  1785. 


SELF-DESCEIPTION.  63 

first  read  the  'Minstrel'  was  due  to  the  sympathy  he 
felt  with  Edwin's  dreams.  Such  revelations  of  intel- 
lectual kinship  come  to  every  boy  of  sensitive  nature  in 
whom  the  first  movements  of  great  faculties  take  the 
shape  of  ambitious  hopes  and  plans.  He  does  not 
merely  follow  the  great  examples  he  admires,  but  catches 
inspiration  from  them.  He  does  not  consciously  imitate 
them,  but  hears  and  obeys  the  call  of  innate  powers  to 
go  and  do  likewise.  This  was  Kogers's  case.  In  some 
lines  written  in  earlier  days,  but  added  to  the  second 
part  of  his  ^  Italy,'  and  dated  1839,  when  he  was  seventy- 
six  years  old,  he  says  of  himself :  ^ — 

*  Nature  denied  him  much, 
But  gave  him  at  his  birth  what  most  he  values, 
A  passionate  love  for  music,  sculpture,  painting, 
For  poetry,  the  language  of  the  gods, 

1  In  the  Common  Place  Book  is  the  earliest  form  of  these  lines,  and 
they  are  entitled  *  Of  Myself — a  Fragment.' 

*  My  gentle  reader,  hast  thou  yet  conceived 
A  wish  to  know  me  ?    Bear  with  me  awhile. 
And  ere  my  task  is  ended  thou  mayst  know 
More  than  thou  wouldst.    Fortune  denied  me  much, 
Yet  gave  me,  with  a  smile,  what  most  I  value,  — 
A  passionate  love  for  music,  painting,  sculpture, 
For  poetry,  the  language  of  the  gods, 
For  all  or  grand  or  beautiful  in  nature : 
A  setting  sun,  a  lake  among  the  mountains, 
The  light  of  an  ingenuous  countenance, 
And  what  transcends  them  all,  a  noble  action. 

What  though  my  ancestors  early  or  late 
"Were  not  ennobled  by  the  breath  of  kings. 
Yet  in  these  veins  was  running  at  my  birth 
The  blood  of  those  most  eminent  of  old 
For  learning,  virtue ;  those  who  could  renounce 
The  things  of  this  world  for  their  conscience'  sake. 
And  die  like  blessed  martyrs.    Health  from  my  cheek 
Fled  ere  the  down  was  there,  and,  rain  or  shine. 
From  very  childhood  was  my  soul  inclined 
To  sadness,  such  as  few  I  hope  have  known ; 
Yet  were  my  waking  dreams,  when  health  was  mine. 
Not  undelightful.' 


54  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

For  all  things  here  or  grand  or  beautiful : 
A  setting  sun,  a  lake  among  the  mountains, 
The  light  of  an  ingenuous  countenance, 
And  what  transcends  them  all,  a  noble  action. 

Nature  denied  him  much,  but  gave  him  more ; 
And  ever,  ever  grateful  should  he  be 
Though  from  his  cheek  ere  yet  the  down  was  there 
Health  fled  ;  for  in  his  heaviest  hours  would  come 
Gleams  such  as  come  not  now ;  nor  failed  he  then 
(Then  and  through  life  his  happiest  privilege) 
Full  oft  to  wander  where  the  Muses  haunt, 
Smit  with  the  love  of  song.' 

There  was  not  much  opportunity  to  wander  where  the 
Muses  haunt  in  those  early  days.  Nor  was  there  the 
slightest  prospect  at  this  time  of  that  dignified  leisure  in 
which  his  long  life  was  to  be  spent.  If  he  thought  defi- 
nitely of  his  future,  the  shape  it  took  in  the  dreams  of 
his  ambition  was  in  all  probability  that  which  has  been 
wrongly  attributed  to  him  of  the  '  banker  poet.'  If  this 
phrase,  now  often  applied  to  him,  has  any  meaning,  it 
describes  a  man  who  is  actually  engaged  in  the  business 
of  banking  at  the  same  time  that  he  is  cultivating  the 
Muse.  This  is  what  Kogers  did  in  his  early  days,  —  but 
in  those  early  days  only.  He  was  then  and  then  only, 
in  the  true  sense  of  the  words,  a  banker  poet.  It  was, 
as  it  were,  by  accident  that  he  became  the  chief  owner 
of  the  business  which  was  afterwards  carried  on  by  his 
brother  and  his  nephew  on  his  behalf ;  and  that  he,  the 
third  son,  was  put  into  the  position  of  the  heir.  There 
can  be  no  stronger  evidence  of  the  confidence  with  which 
he  inspired  his  father,  who  was  himself  a  prudent  and 
very  successful  man  of  business,  than  that  the  bank 
should  have  been  left  in  his  hands.  It  is  the  most  con- 
clusive proof  that  could  be  given  of  Kogers's  devotion  to 
business  and  of  his  capacity  for  it.  But  when  he  began 
to  write  he  was  not  even  a  partner,  and  when  he  pub- 


HIS  FIRST  POEMS.  55 

lislied  his  first  volume  of  poems  he  was  only  the  youngest 
member  in  the  banking  partnership,  with  scarcely  the 
most  distant  prospect  of  ever  being  anything  else.  The 
world  has  been  assured  that  from  the  first  he  laid  out 
his  life  with  a  view  to  the  social  distinction  he  after- 
wards attained;  but  such  statements  have  no  foundation. 
They  have  been  made  by  persons  who  have  written 
about  him  in  complete  ignorance  of  the  kind  of  life  he 
lived  in  his  younger  days.  It  was  a  life  of  steady  appli- 
cation to  business,  of  going  to  and  fro  between  his  home 
in  Stoke  Newington  and  the  bank  in  Freeman's  Court ; 
of  immersion  for  the  best  part  of  every  working-day  in 
the  dry  details  of  finance.  This  life  of  work  was  varied, 
relieved,  brightened,  and  consoled  by  the  love  of  poetry. 
The  leisure  which  business  left  to  him  was  spent  in 
literary  occupation  or  in  cultivating  the  society  of  men 
of  letters.  But  Eogers  never  dreamed  of  making  either 
literary  or  social  success  his  chief  pursuit.  The  oppor- 
tunitj'-  for  such  successes  came  afterwards,  and  awoke 
the  desire  for  them ;  but  that  opportunity  found  him 
behind  a  bank  counter  or  in  a  bank  parlor,  as  the  genius 
of  his  country  found  Burns  at  the  plough. 

His  first  poetical  composition  has  never  been  pub- 
lished. It  took  the  unexpected  form  of  a  comic  opera. 
The  world  might  never  have  heard  of  this  production, 
of  which  Kogers  himself  did  not  desire  much  to  be  said, 
but  for  a  Note  which,  in  his  '  Table  Talk,'  Mr.  Dyce  has 
appended  to  an  account  given  by  Eogers  of  the  time 
occupied  in  the  composition  of  his  poems.  In  this  Note 
Mr.  Dyce  writes,  *  I  was  with  Mr.  Eogers  when  he  tore 
to  pieces  and  threw  into  the  fire  a  manuscript  operatic 
drama  —  "The  Vintage  of  Burgundy"  —  which  he  had 
written  early  in  life.  He  told  me  that  he  offered  it 
to  a  manager,  who  said,  "I  will  bring  it  on  the  stage 
if  you  are  determined  to  have  it  acted,  but  it  will  cer- 
tainly be  damned."    One  or  two  songs  which  now  appear 


56  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

among  his  poems  formed  parts  of  that  drama.'  This 
statement  is  only  partly  true.  The  manuscripts  —  for 
there  were  two  copies  —  were  indeed  torn,  but  only  a  por- 
tion of  each  was  burned,  and  the  remainder  is  still  pre- 
served. The  story  of  the  offer  of  the  opera  to  a  manager, 
like  many  others  which  Mr.  Dyce  has  reported,  was  told 
by  Eogers  when  his  memory  was  failing.  The  manager 
to  whom  it  was  submitted  seems,  from  a  letter  which  has 
been  preserved,  to  have  been  George  Colman  the  elder. 
His  letter,  returning  it,  is  dated  from  Soho  Square,  April 
8th,  without  the  year,  and  merely  says,  '  The  little  piece, 
herewith  returned,  is,  I  think,  a  pretty  drama  of  the  senti- 
mental kind,  but  its  success  upon  the  stage  must  depend 
much  upon  the  music.  Is  not  it  a  translation  from  the 
French? '  This  faint  praise  from  the  eminent  author  of 
the  '  Jealous  Wife '  and  the  *  Clandestine  Marriage,'  was 
probably  regarded  by  Eogers  as  equivalent  to  condemna- 
tion, and  may  have  convinced  him  that  his  chance  of 
literary  success  was  to  be  found  in  a  different  direction. 

The  piece  was  called  ^The  Vintage  of  Burgundy  —  a 
Comic  Opera  in  Two  Acts.'  The  larger  fragment  shows 
that  the  manuscript  covered  eight-and-twenty  pages  of 
small,  clear  writing ;  two  of  these  have  been  completely 
cut  away,  eighteen  are  roughly  torn  down  the  middle, 
and  eight  are  entire.  Of  the  smaller  manuscript  much 
less  is  left;  but  it  contains  a  few  lines  which  are  ob- 
literated in  the  other  copy.  So  far  as  the  two  can  be 
compared,  the  difference  between  them  is  considerable. 
The  description  of  it  as  a  *  comic  opera '  is  not  borne  out 
by  what  remains  of  it ;  but  it  exactly  answers  to  George 
Colman's  description,  *  a  pretty  drama  of  the  sentimental 
kind.'  No  steps  seem  to  have  been  taken  to  get  it  set 
to  music,  but  there  is  on  one  of  the  manuscripts  an  in- 
complete cast  of  the  play  in  which  the  chief  characters 
are  apportioned  to  Incledon,  Johnson,  Blanc,  Mrs.  B., 
and  Mrs.  M.    The  little  piece  contained  at  least  nineteen 


THE  VINTAGE  OF  BURGUNDY.  57 

songs,  two  of  which  are  published  among  Eogers's 
poems,  —  *  The  Alps  at  Daybreak '  and  ^  Dear  is  my  little 
Native  Vale.'  Among  those  which  have  never  seen  the 
light  is  one  of  which  only  part  of  the  first  verse  remains, 
the  idea  of  which  is  expressed  in  the  words  of  one  of  the 
peasants,  *  'T  is  the  vintage  to-morrow,  and  if  you  long 
for  the  pure  juice  of  the  grape,  you  may  eat  a  bottle  of 
Burgundy  in  the  way  Nature  gives  it ! '  The  verse  may 
be  reconstructed  thus  :  — 

*  Let  the  grape's  gushing  nectar  ferment 

And  sing  from  the  flask  as  it  flows, 
But  with  Nature's  [own  gift  I  'm  content], 
I  '11  quaff  the  [red  Juice  as  it  grows].' 

There  are  some  dancing  songs,  sung  by  a  Burgundian 
peasant  girl.    One  verse  can  be  reconstructed  :  — 

*  Each  tender  youth  at  every  pa[use] 

Breathes  softly  in  his  partner's  [ear] 
What  most  can  plead  a  lover's  [cause] 

What  most  she  hopes  yet  d[reads  to  hear].* 

Another  of  the  peasant  songs  is :  — 

*  At  the  close  of  a  summer's  day, 

When  all  danced  over  the  green, 
With  my  Lubin  I  stole  away 
To  walk  by  the  hedge  unseen  ; 
And  my  heart  went  pit-arpat. 

' "  Ah,  Annete  !  "  he  said  with  a  sigh, 
"  Could  I  tell  you  what  I  feel !  " 
And  I  blushed,  though  I  knew  not  why, 
At  the  tale  he  would  reveal ; 

And  my  heart  went  pit-a-pat. 

*  With  such  softness  he  pressed  my  hand. 

Such  a  kiss  enforced  his  vow. 
That  I  'd  hardly  strength  to  stand, 
And  I  looked  —  I  know  not  how ; 
While  my  heart  went  pit-a-pat. 


58  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

*  And  when  we  returned  to  the  green 

So  lightly  we  tripped  away, 
Such  a  jig  had  never  been  seen 
Since  the  piper  learnt  to  play ; 
For  our  hearts  went  pit-a-pat/ 

One  of  the  girls  employed  in  the  vintage  is  an  Italian 
girl,  who  has  run  away  from  a  match  her  father  wished 
to  force  upon  her,  and  is  followed  by  the  lover  she 
favors  in  the  guise  of  an  organ-grinder.  She  sings 
the  song,  ^Dear  is  my  little  Native  Vale,'  and  one  to 
the  nightingale. 

I. 

*  Blest  chantress  of  the  midnight  grove, 

Descend  and  sing  thy  serenade ; 
No  parent  checks  thy  little  love, 
Or  bids  thy  ruffled  plumage  fade. 

II. 

*  The  moon  shines  through  the  dusky  trees, 

Her  beams  among  the  branches  play ; 
Let  thy  wild  warblings  swell  the  breeze. 
And  softly,  sweetly,  die  away.' 

And  when  her  lover  finds  her,  and  she  will  not  accept 
him  without  her  father's  consent,  they  sing  together :  — 

*  Lucio.    The  opening  floweret  greets  the  dawn, 
When  genial  dews  impearl  the  lawn  ; 
Up  springs  the  lark  with  carols  clear. 
When  day  spreads  o'er  the  sky. 
Maria,    But  when  despair  has  shut  the  heart 
What  joy  can  any  sense  impart  ? 
Then,  what  is  music  to  the  ear 
Or  beauty  to  the  eye  ?  ' 

The  piece,  of  course,  ends  happily.  From  the  date  of 
1782,  given  to  the  song  '  Dear  is  my  little  Native  Vale,' 
it  is  evident  that  it  was  the  first  of  Eogers's  completed 
productions,  and  embodied  much  of  his  early  poetical 


HIS  LITERARY  HABITS.  59 

effort.  He  had  kept  it  by  him  very  many  years,  and 
had  probably  re-written  and  published  several  of  the 
songs  it  contained,  besides  the  two  already  mentioned. 
He  might  have  said  of  ^  The  Vintage  of  Burgundy,'  —  as 
he  did  of  the  ^  Ode  to  Superstition,'  — that  it  was  written 
in  his  teens,  and  afterwards  touched  up.  This  elaborate 
method  was  followed  in  everything  he  did,  —  even  in  the 
writing  of  a  letter  of  more  than  common  importance. 
He  wrote  nothing  in  haste,  yet  he  always  reconsidered 
every  line  at  leisure.  He  said  to  Mr.  Dyce :  ^  During 
my  whole  life  I  have  borne  in  mind  the  speech  of  a 
woman  to  Philip  of  Macedon,  —  "I  appeal  from  Philip 
drunk  to  Philip  sober."  After  writing  anything  in  the 
excitement  of  the  moment,  and  being  greatly  pleased 
with  it,  I  have  always  put  it  by  for  a  time,  and  then, 
carefully  considering  it  in  every  possible  light,  I  have 
altered  it  to  the  best  of  my  judgment.'  This  rule  has 
the  testimony  of  all  antiquity  in  its  favor ;  but  it  belongs 
to  antiquity.  The  custom  of  the  present  day  is  to  print 
at  once  that  which  is  flung  off  in  the  heat  of  the  kin- 
dled fancy,  and  the  haste  is  justified  of  its  children  by 
the  gain  in  strength  and  tire,  though  the  gain  is  made  at 
some  expense  of  that  grace  and  polish  of  which  Kogers 
is  one  of  the  latest  examples  in  English  literature. 

His  second  poetical  composition  was  the  'Ode  to 
Superstition,'  which  has  been  already  mentioned.  The 
writing  of  this  poem  was  one  of  the  chief  occupations  of 
his  evening  leisure  in  1784  and  1785.  Like  '  The  Vin- 
tage of  Burgundy,'  it  was  written  and  re-written,  and 
was  published  anonymously  in  the  spring*of  1786,  witli 
the  title,  'An  Ode  to  Superstition,  with  some  other 
Poems.'  It  was  issued  by  Mr.  Cadell  as  a  thin  quarto, 
at  the  price  of  eighteenpence.  The  other  poems  were  : 
*  The  Alps  at  Daybreak,'  which  had  been  included  in  the 
unpublished  opera,  *  The  Vintage  of  Burgundy ; '  '  Lines 
to  a  Lady  on  the  Death  of  her  Lover,'  which  were  after- 


60  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

wards  omitted  in  the  republication  of  his  poems ;  *  The 
Sailor/  which  is  dated  1786  in  his  collected  works  ;  and 
the  pretty  song,  often  set  to  music  and  included  in  col- 
lections of  poetry,  entitled  ^A  Wish,'  and  beginning 
*  Mine  be  a  cot  beside  the  hill/  In  describing  this  first 
venture  many  years  afterwards,  Eogers  said,  ^I  paid 
down  to  the  publisher  thirty  pounds,  to  insure  him 
against  being  a  loser  by  it.  At  the  end  of  four  years 
I  found  he  had  sold  twenty  copies/  This  was  as  dis- 
couraging a  beginning  as  that  which  Wordsworth  and 
Coleridge  made  twelve  years  later  with  their  joint  vol- 
ume of  ^  Lyrical  Ballads.'  Mr.  Cottle,  the  Bristol  pub- 
lisher, paid  them  thirty  guineas  each  for  the  copyright, 
and  boldly  printed  five  hundred  copies.  The  first  piece 
in  the  volume  was  the  ^Ancient  Mariner,'  yet  the  sale 
was  so  slow  that  Cottle  was  glad  to  dispose  of  the  largest 
portion  of  the  copies  to  a  London  bookseller  at  a  loss, 
and  he  gave  back  to  the  authors  their  valueless  copy- 
right. Rogers's  publisher  was  at  least  kept  from  loss,  and 
Eogers  himself  was  not  discouraged  by  the  small  sale  of 
the  poem.  The  critics  were  more  appreciative  than  the 
public  J  he  was  encouraged  by  them  to  own  himself  to  be 
the  author  of  the  poem,  and  was  soon  recognized  as  one 
of  the  promising  writers  of  the  time.  He  learned  too, 
from  the  reception  of  the  ^  Ode  to  Superstition,'  that  it 
was  not  in  lyrical  poetry  he  was  destined  to  excel. 

The  first  notice  of  the  '  Ode  to  Superstition '  was  in  the 
'  Critical  Eeview '  for  June,  1786.  This  magazine  quoted 
the  first  stanza  of  the  Ode,  and  added  only  two  lines  and 
a  half  of  criticism :  ^  This  exordium  —  and  the  other 
parts  of  the  Ode  are  not  inferior  to  it  —  is  spirited  and 
harmonious.  The  lesser  poems  are  elegant  and  pretty.' 
A  somewhat  longer  notice  appeared  in  the  ^  Monthly  Ee- 
view '  for  July,  1786.  '  In  these  pieces,'  said  the  reviewer, 
*we  perceive  the  hand  of  an  able  master.  The  "Ode 
to  Superstition  "  is  written  with  uncommon  boldness  of 


*ODE  TO  SUPERSTITION.*  61 

imagery  and  strength  of  diction.  The  Author  has  col- 
lected some  of  the  most  striking  historical  facts  to  illus- 
trate the  tyranny  of  the  dsemon  he  addresses,  and  has 
exhibited  them  with  the  fire  and  energy  proper  to  lyric 
poetry.  The  following  stanzas  are  particularly  excel- 
lent.'   The  reviewer  then  quotes  the  lines :  — 

III.  1. 

*  Mona,  thy  Druid  rites  awake  the  dead  I 

Rites  thy  brown  oaks  would  never  dare 

Even  whisper  to  the  idle  air ; 
Kites  that  have  chained  old  Ocean  on  his  bed. 

Shivered  by  thy  piercing  glance 

Pointless  falls  the  hero's  lance. 
Thy  magic  bids  the  imperial  eagle  fly, 
And  blasts  the  laureate  wreath  of  victory. 
Hark,  the  bard's  soul  inspires  the  vocal  string  I 

At  every  pause  dread  Silence  hovers  o'er. 
While  murky  Night  sails  round  on  raven  wing. 

Deepening  the  tempest's  howl,  the  torrent's  roar ; 
Chased  by  the  morn  from  Snowdon's  awful  brow 
Where  late  she  sat  and  scowled  on  the  black  wave  below. 

III.  2. 

*  Lo,  steel-clad  War  his  gorgeous  standard  rears  ! 

The  red-cross  squadrons  madly  rage. 
And  mow  through  infancy  and  age. 
Then*  kiss  the  sacred  dust  and  melt  in  tears. 
Veiling  from  the  eye  of  day. 
Penance  dreams  her  life  away  ; 
In  cloistered  solitude  she  sits  and  sighs, 
While  from  each  shrine  still  small  responses  rise.. 
Hear  with  what  heartfelt  beat  the  midnight  bell 

Swings  its  slow  summons  through  the  hollow  pile ; 
The  weak  wan  votarist  leaves  her  twilight  cell, 

To  walk  with  taper  dim  the  winding  aisle  ; 
With  choral  chantings  vainly  to  aspire 
Beyond  this  nether  sphere  on  Rapture's  wing  of  fire.* 


62  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

The  reviewer  adds :  '  The  picture  of  night  at  the  end 
of  the  first  of  these  stanzas  is  highly  poetical;  in  the 
second,  the  gloom  of  cloistered  solitude  is  well  repre- 
sented/ ^  The  Sailor  *  is  described  as  an  elegy  ^  harmo- 
nious and  tender/  and  the  reviewer  concludes,  —  ^the 
rest  of  these  pieces  have  the  same  character  of  chaste 
and  classical  elegance/ 

It  is  probable  that  a  critic  of  the  present  day  might 
make  a  different  selection  of  stanzas  for  the  purpose  of 
showing  the  chaste  and  classical  elegance  of  the  poem. 
But  these  passages  met  the  taste  of  the  time.  There 
may  be  no  conscious  imitation  in  them,  but  they  are 
evidently  suggested  and  inspired  by  Gray's  ^  Bard.'  It  is 
needless  to  say  that  this  criticism  gave  the  young  author 
great  satisfaction  and  encouragement.  He  afterwards 
learned  that  the  writer  in  the  '  Monthly  Beview '  was  the 
amiable  and  accomplished  Dr.  Enfield,  compiler  of  the 
'  Speaker,'  and  author  of  the  *  History  of  Philosophy.'  Dr. 
Enfield  had  read  the  poem  aloud  to  his  family.  Other 
criticisms  were  equally  encouraging.  His  school-friend 
William  Maltby,  writing  to  him  soon  after  the  ^  Ode '  was 
published,  tells  Eogers  that  he  has  just  received  a  letter 
from  Winchester,  with  the  Poet  Laureate's  opinion  of  the 
*  Ode ' :  ^  He  thinks  it  has  a  great  deal  of  merit  indeed, 
and  that  the  reviewers  have  not  given  it  more  praise 
than  it  justly  deserves.  He  wishes  much  to  know  the 
name  of  the  author.'  The  Laureate  at  that  time  was 
Thomas  Warton,  whom  Bogers  never  saw,  but  whose 
poem  ^The  Suicide'  was  one  of  his  favorites.  Bogers 
had  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barbauld, 
who  had  just  established  themselves  at  Hampstead,  and 
a  copy  of  the  poem  was  sent  to  them  through  the  pub- 
lisher. Mrs.  Barbauld  writes  on  the  4th  of  September, 
1786,  expressing  the  hope  that  she  is  not  wrong  in  ad- 
dressing her  thanks  for  the  book  to  Mr.  Bogers.  She 
adds,  ^Charmed  as  she  was  with  the  picturesque  and 


MINOR  POEMS.  63 

striking  beauties  of  the  poems  in  question,  she  wished 
to  have  made  an  earlier  acknowledgment  of  the  pleasure 
she  received,  if  she  had  known  to  whom  to  make  it ;  and 
was  delighted  when  she  learned  that  her  thanks  were 
due  to  the  same  gentleman  whose  conversation  had  al- 
ready engaged  her  esteem.  Mr.  Barbauld  and  herself 
should  be  happy  to  improve  an  acquaintance  which  so 
many  concurring  circumstances  lead  them  to  value.' 
Kogers  was  then  three-and-twenty,  and  was  already  be- 
coming known  among  his  contemporaries  for  those  con- 
versational powers  for  which  he  was  widely  celebrated 
afterwards. 

There  are  two  other  short  pieces  written  about  this 
period  which  give  indications  of  the  true  direction  of  his 
muse.  The  first  of  these  is  entitled  ^  Captivity,'  and  was 
said  by  Rogers  to  have  been  a  favorite  with  Hookham 
Erere,  who  said  that  it  resembled  a  Greek  epigram  :  — 

*  Caged  in  old  woods,  whose  reverend  echoes  wake 
When  the  hern  screams  along  the  distant  lake, 
Her  little  heart  oft  flutters  to  be  free, 
Oft  sighs  to  turn  the  unrelenting  key. 
In  vain  !  the  nurse  that  rusted  relic  wears, 
N'or  moved  by  gold  —  nor  to  be  moved  by  tears ; 
And  terraced  walls  their  black  reflection  throw 
On  the  green  mantled  moat  that  sleeps  below.* 

The  second  is  dated  1786,  and  is  entitled 

Written  at  Midnight. 

While  through  the  broken  pane  the  tempest  sighs, 
And  my  step  falters  on  the  faithless  floor. 
Shades  of  departed  joys  around  me  rise. 
With  many  a  face  that  smiles  on  me  no  more  ; 
With  many  a  voice  that  thrills  of  transport  gave, 
Now  silent  as  the  grass  that  tufts  their  grave. 


64  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

These  are  early  efforts  in  the  direction  of  his  later 
and  more  successful  style.  It  may  be  objected  to  the 
stanzas  written  at  midnight,  that  tempests  would  not 
'  sigh '  through  a  broken  pane,  and  that  '  falters  on  the 
faithless  floor'  is  too  alliterative.  But  the  perturbed 
watcher  sees  his  own  agitation  reflected  in  the  moaning 
of  the  wind,  which  he  thus  exaggerates  into  a  tempest ; 
while  the  silence  of  the  house  is  equally  represented  in 
his  mind  by  the  faltering  of  his  step  as  he  treads  the 
floor,  the  creaking  of  which  betrays  his  vigil. 


<       CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Bank  Partnership.  —  Hackney  College. —Dr.  Kippis  one  of  his 
Literary  Sponsors.  —  Helen  Maria  Williams  and  the  Coquerels.— 
Mrs.  Barbauld.  —  Joanna  Baillie.  —  Death  of  Thomas  Rogers,  junior. 
—  Letters  from  Thomas  Rogers,  senior.  —  Visit  to  Edinburgh.  — 
Adam  Smith,  Robertson,  H.  Mackenzie. — The  Piozzis.  —  Tour 
through  Scotland.  —  Bums.  —  Henry  Mackenzie  and  his  works.  — 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  and  Burke. 

The  few  years  that  followed  the  publication  of  the  '  Ode 
to  Superstition'  were  the  turning-point  in  Samuel  Rog- 
ers's history,  the  period  at  which  all  his  prospects  under- 
went a  change,  and  life  opened  out  before  him  with  new 
and  boundless  opportunities.  As  the  third  son  he  had 
only  the  expectation  of  a  share  in  his  father's  growing 
business.  He  had  gone  to  the  bank  as  a  clerk,  and  in 
1784,  a  few  months  before  he  had  completed  his  twenty- 
first  year,  he  had  been  taken  into  partnership.  The 
partnership  deeds  '  show  that  Thomas  Rogers  the  younger 
and  his  brother  Samuel  became  members  of  the  firm 
on  the  19th  of  April,  1784.  Mr.  Olding,  who  had  been 
principal  clerk  for  many  years,  was  made  a  partner  in 
1771,  at  a  salary,  and  in  June,  1778,  his  name  had  been 
added  to  that  of  the  firm,  and  his  remuneration  fixed  at 
one-sixth  of  the  profits.  In  1784,  Thomas  Rogers,  Jr., 
and  Samuel  Rogers  were  introduced  on  similar  terms. 
The  profits  were  to  be  divided  into  sixty-eight  parts,  of 
which  nineteen  were  to  go  to  George  Welch,  nineteen  to 

1  The  deeds  were  in  possession  of  the  late  Mr.  Kemp  Welch  of 
Woodlands,  Parkstone,  Dorset,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  a  transcript 
of  their  contents. 

5 


66  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Thomas  Kogers,  Sr.,  and  ten  each  to  John  Olding, 
Thomas  Kogers,  Jr.,  and  Samuel  Kogers.  The  name  of 
the  firm  was  at  the  same  time  altered  to  that  of  Welch, 
Kogers,  Olding,  Kogers,  and  Kogers,  —  Samuel  Kogers 
being  the  youngest  partner,  and  his  name  the  last. 

He  was  already  the  best  known.  The  publication  of 
the  ^  Ode,'  and  the  reception  it  had  met  with  from  the 
reviewers,  and  especially  from  persons  known  or  eminent 
in  literature,  to  whom  he  had  sent  it,  had  already  made 
him  the  literary  member  of  the  household  and  the  firm. 
He  was  known  to  entertain  literary  ambitions,  and  his 
father  at  least  sympathized  with  them,  and  did  what  he 
could  to  advance  them.  There  may  possibly  have  been  a 
little  feeling  among  his  brothers  and  sisters,  of  impatience 
at  his  desire  for  distinction,  or  at  the  manner  in  which 
it  occasionally  appeared.  This  may  account  for  one 
statement  recorded  by  Mr.  Dyce.  *  In  my  youth,'  he  re- 
ports Kogers  to  have  said,  ^  just  as  I  was  beginning  to 
be  a  little  known,  I  felt  much  gratified  by  an  invitation 
to  breakfast  with  Townley,  the  statue  collector,  and  one 
night  at  home  I  mentioned  the  invitation.  "  You  have 
mentioned  that  before,"  was  the  remark,'  —  in  all  proba- 
bility a  playful  sally  of  his  eldest  sister,  Martha.  He 
told  the  story,  too,  of  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  who  on  re- 
ceiving an  unexpected  prize  from  the  Society  of  Arts, 
went  with  it  into  the  parlor  where  his  brothers  and 
sisters  were  sitting,  but  finding  that  none  of  them  would 
take  the  least  notice  of  it,  was  so  much  mortified  by  their 
affected  indifference  that  he  ran  upstairs  into  his  own 
room  and  burst  into  tears.  When  he  narrated  this  story 
of  Lawrence  to  Mrs.  Siddons,  she  in  her  turn  exclaimed : 
'Alas!  after  I  became  celebrated  none  of  my  sisters 
loved  me  as  they  did  before.'  Perhaps  this  coolness, 
where  it  arises,  is  less  the  fault  of  the  family  than  of  the 
individual.  Fame  is  an  exacting  mistress,  and  demands 
an  undivided  service.     Social  success  can  only  be  pur- 


HIS  LITERARY  FRIENDS.  67 

chased  at  a  sacrifice,  and  the  sacrifice  sometimes  is  the 
pieties  of  home.  In  these  early  days,  however,  no  such 
sacrifice  was  asked  of  Samuel  Eogers,  or  was  made  by 
him.  He  could  only  have  spoken  of  a  temporary  mis- 
understanding, due  to  his  own  eagerness  ;  for  there  are 
no  signs  in  the  family  letters  that  any  but  the  most 
affectionate  relations  existed  between  the  father  and  the 
children,  the  brothers  and  sisters,  at  Newington  Green. 

Mr.  Thomas  Eogers  had,  at  this  time,  entered  into  a 
new  engagement  which  was  very  advantageous  to  his 
son  Samuel.  He  had  sent  his  eldest  son,  Daniel,  to  Cam- 
bridge ;  but  he  was  fully  impressed,  as  the  Unitarians 
always  were,  with  the  inconvenience  of  the  prevailing 
system  of  subscription  to  creeds,  as  a  condition  of  univer- 
sity education.  As  these  barriers  shut  out  their  theo- 
logical students  from  the  national  seats  of  learning,  they 
endeavored  to  provide  means  of  academical  instruction 
for  themselves.  With  this  object  the  Hackney  College 
was  founded,  and  Thomas  Eogers  became  its  chairman. 
There  are  frequent  references  to  this  college  in  his  let- 
ters. Among  the  tutors  there  were  the  Eev.  Gilbert 
Wakefield,  and  afterwards  Dr.  Kippis,  the  learned  and 
accomplished  editor  of  the  '  Biographia  Britannica.'  Dr. 
Kippis  was  in  those  days  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  house 
on  Newington  Green,  and  many  of  Samuel  Eogers's  early 
introductions  to  literary  society  came  through  him.  He 
had  friends  among  all  parties ;  that  hearty  Tory,  Boswell, 
while  lamenting  that  he  was  a  '  Separatist,'  speaks  of 
him  as  his  friend,  and  in  a  note  to  his  '  Life  of  Johnson,' 
in  which  he  apologizes  for  having  carelessly  joined  in  a 
censure  which  had  been  carelessly  uttered,  bears  witness 
to  '  the  manly,  candid  good  temper  which  marks  his  char- 
acter.' Dr.  Kippis  frequently  took  Sam  Eogers  with  him 
to  literary  parties ;  and  Eogers  himself  followed  up  the 
introductions  thus  given.  Dr.  Price  and  Dr.  Kippis  were 
thus,  as  it  were,  his  literary  sponsors.     They  were  both 


68  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Fellows  of  the  Eoyal  Society,  and  had  a  large  acquaint- 
ance among  scientific  men.  Dr.  Kippis  was  also  a  Fel- 
low of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries.  Samuel  Kogers  called 
for  Dr.  Kippis  one  evening  at  Eobinson's  (the  book- 
seller's), to  go  with  him  to  a  meeting  of  that  society. 
When  Dr.  Kippis  came  down  he  said,  ^  Tom  Warton  is 
upstairs;'  and  Kogers  always  regretted  that  he  had  not 
gone  up  to  see  the  Laureate.  The  only  letter  from  Dr. 
Kippis  which  has  been  preserved  is  dated  from  West- 
minster, the  14th  November,  1787,  and  is  to  inform  Kog- 
ers that  ^  Miss  Helen  Williams  desires  his  company  at 
tea  on  Monday  next.  She  lives  at  Mr.  Jacques's,  the  first 
house  in  Southampton  Kow,  Bloomsbury,  opposite  Kussell 
Street.'  In  1789  he  owed  to  Dr.  Kippis  an  easy  entrance 
into  the  best  literary  society  of  the  Scottish  capital. 

Miss  Helen  Maria  Williams,  to  whom  Dr.  Kippis  had 
introduced  him,  was  at  that  time  living  in  London  with 
her  mother  and  sisters.  She  was  a  year  older  than 
Kogers,  and  had  already  attained  considerable  success 
and  reputation  as  an  authoress.  At  eighteen  she  had 
become  known  as  a  poetess,  and  at  twenty  had  pub- 
lished a  novel  entitled  ^  Edwin  and  Eltruda,'  written  in 
the  sentimental  fashion  of  the  time  ;  and  two  years  later 
she  had  written  a  similar  tale  entitled  *  Julie.'  Kogers 
spoke  of  her  in  after  years  as  a  very  fascinating  person, 
though  not  handsome,  and  he  became  at  this  period  of 
his  life  very  intimate  with  her.  She  was  a  woman  of 
much  conversational  power,  and  had  the  charm  of  sym- 
pathy and  the  art  of  bringing  people  together.  She 
was  full  of  admiration  for  the  French  Ke volution,  and 
in  1791  the  family  went  to  France  with  the  intention  of 
settling  at  Orleans.  They,  however,  soon  removed  to 
Paris,  where  Kogers  afterwards  visited  her.  She  was  a 
warm  adherent  of  the  Girondist  party,  and  shared  their 
fall  and  imprisonment,  and,  but  for  an  oversight,  would 
have  been  carried  with  their  leaders  to  the  guillotine. 


THE  COQUERELS  AND  BARBAULDS.  69 

She  was  liberated  after  the  fall  of  Robespierre,  and  be- 
came in  later  years  an  admirer  of  Napoleon.  She  trans- 
lated the  twenty-nine  volumes  of  Humboldt's  *  Personal 
Narrative '  of  his  Travels  into  English,  and  wrote  several 
works  on  France  which  were  a  good  deal  more  read.  She 
continued  to  live  in  Paris  till  her  death  in  1827.  Mean- 
while her  sister  Cecilia  had  married  a  Frenchman,  — 
M.  Coquerel,  —  and  her  son,  Athanase  Coquerel,  became 
the  celebrated  Liberal  Protestant  preacher  of  the  Ora- 
toire,  and  representative  of  Paris  after  the  Revolution  of 
1848.  Cecilia's  grandson,  Athanase  Coquerel  the  younger, 
was,  till  his  too  early  death,  the  genial  and  gentle,  yet 
high-spirited  and  vigorous  leader  of  the  Liberal  section  of 
the  French  Protestant  Church. 

Another  of  Rogers's  friends  in  these  early  days  was 
Mrs.  Barbauld.  The  Barbaulds  had  settled  at  Hamp- 
stead  in  the  summer  of  1786,  where  Mr.  Barbauld  was 
the  minister  of  a  small  Presbyterian  chapel  on  Rosslyn 
Hill.  The  congregation  was  one  of  those  which  had 
already  become  Unitarian  in  theology.  It  is  now  the 
largest  Unitarian  congregation  in  London,  and  is  under 
the  charge  of  Dr.  Sadler,  the  accomplished  editor  of 
Crabb  Robinson's  'Diary.'  Writing  to  her  brother,  Dr. 
Aikin,  Mrs.  Barbauld  says,^  'Hampstead  is  certainly  the 
pleasantest  village  about  London  ; '  but  she  adds,  *  except 
Avignon  it  is  the  most  windy  place  I  was  ever  in.'  She 
speaks  too  of  'the  long  tea-drinking  afternoons'  which 
the  calls  of  friends  imposed  on  her,  and  remarks  with 
pity  on  the  number  of  young  ladies.  *  One  gentleman  in 
particular,'  she  says,  'has  five  tall  marriageable  daugh- 
ters, and  not  a  single  young  man  is  to  be  seen  in  the 
place.'  Rogers  had  already  visited  her  when  she  writes 
to  ask  him  to  come  again.     In  the  letter  conveying  the 

1  *  Memories  of  Seventy  Years,*  p.  63.  Edited  by  Mrs.  Herbert 
Martin. 


70  EARLY  LIFE  OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

invitation,  which  her  great-niece,  the  late  Mrs.  Le  Breton, 
writer  of  '  Memories  of  Seventy  Years,'  dates  in  October, 
1787,  Mrs.  Barbauld  says ;  — 

'  Your  visit  was  so  short  that  we  wish  to  think  of  any- 
thing which  may  induce  you  to  make  us  a  longer ;  and 
as  we  are  to  have  an  Assembly  at  the  Long  Room  on  Mon- 
day next,  the  22d,  which  they  say  will  be  a  pretty  good 
one,  I  take  the  liberty  to  ask  whether  it  will  be  agreeable 
to  you  to  be  of  our  party,  and  in  that  case  we  have  a  bed 
at  your  service.  I  could,  I  am  sure,  have  my  petition 
supported  by  a  round  robin  of  the  young  ladies  of  Hamp- 
stead,  which  would  act  like  a  spell  and  oblige  your  at- 
tendance; but,  not  being  willing  to  make  use  of  such 
compulsory  methods,  I  will  only  say  how  much  pleasure 
it  would  give  to, 

*  Sir,  your  obliged  and  obedient  servant, 

'A.  Barbauld.' 

She  adds  a  postscript  to  say  that  their  dinner-hour  is 
half  after  three.  This  invitation  was  probably  accepted, 
and  Rogers  kept  the  letter  all  his  life.  He  told  Mr.  Dyce 
that  he  used  to  go  to  the  Hampstead  Assemblies  when 
he  was  young,  that  there  was  much  good  company  there, 
and  that  he  had  sometimes  danced  four  or  five  minuets  in 
one  evening.  The  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Barbauld  soon 
became  intimate,  and  the  friendship  continued  unbroken 
till  her  death  in  1825. 

Among  the  friends  whom  he  made  during  these  visits 
to  Hampstead  was  Miss  Joanna  Baillie.  Miss  Baillie 
was  a  year  older  than  Rogers,  and  died  only  four  years 
before  him,  in  her  ninetieth  year.  In  these  early  days 
she  was  unknown  as  an  authoress,  and  Mrs.  Barbauld 
says,  ^  came  to  Mr.  Barbauld's  meeting  with  as  innocent 
a  face  as  if  she  had  not  written  a  line.'  Even  after  the 
publication  of  the  first  volume  of  her  *  Plays  of  the  Pas- 


HIS  BROTHER  DANIEL.  71 

sions'in  1799,  she  kept  the  secret  of  her  authorship, 
though  the  warmest  admiration  of  her  writings  was 
expressed  in  her  presence.  *  The  unsuspected  author  lay- 
snug/  says  Miss  Aikin,  *  in  the  asylum  of  her  taciturnity.' 
Her  intercourse  with  Rogers  was  constant,  and  large  num- 
bers of  her  letters  have  been  preserved,  but  they  are  of 
small  importance,  and  are  as  a  rule  without  a  trace  of 
date.  Her  brother,  Dr.  Matthew  Baillie,  the  eminent 
physician,  who  lived  with  her,  was  the  successor  of  Dr. 
William  Hunter  in  his  anatomical  professorship. 

It  was  in  the  year  1788  that  the  first  great  change  in 
the  prospects  of  Samuel  Eogers  took  place.  His  eldest 
brother,  Daniel,  was  at  Cambridge.  Daniel  Rogers  had 
definitely  chosen  a  career  which  had  left  the  banking 
business  to  his  two  younger  brothers,  Thomas  and  Sam- 
uel. He  was  not  adapted  for  business,  and  his  father  did 
not  leave  him,  in  his  will,  even  the  estates  in  Worcester- 
shire and  elsewhere  which  had  come  to  him  by  inheri- 
tance or  had  been  acquired  during  his  life.  Sir  Egerton 
Bridges,  in  his  chatty  and  egotistical  autobiography, 
speaks  of  Daniel  Rogers  as  one  of  his  fellow-collegians,  a 
very  clever  man,  who  had  an  amazing  memory  and  read 
much,  but  he  adds,  *  I  never  saw  any  of  his  compositions.' 
Daniel  Rogers,  in  fact,  did  not  become  an  author.  He  pre- 
ferred the  life  of  a  country  squire.  Samuel  Sharpe,  his 
nephew,  speaks  of  him  as  '  a  man  of  delightfully  simple 
mind,  a  great  reader,  and  throughout  life  an  earnest  stu- 
dent of  the  ancient  and  Eastern  languages.'  In  the  au- 
tobiographical sketch  I  have  quoted  in  his  memoir  (p.  18) 
Samuel  Sharpe  further  says  of  his  uncle  Daniel :  *  He 
was  of  delightful  guileless  simplicity,  without  a  thought 
that  was  hidden  from  you.  and  was  liked  by  all  his  ac- 
quaintance. His  father  meant  him  for  the  Bar,  and  had 
great  hopes  of  his  being  a  distinguished  man.  But  he 
did  not  like  the  law  :  he  preferred  classics.  He  married 
his  cousin,  Martha  Bowles,  and  went  to  live  in  the  coun- 


72  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

try,  much  to  his  father's  disappointment.  He  dwelt  first 
at  Lincoln,  where  he  was  intimate  with  Dr.  Paley,  but  he 
afterwards  removed  to  Wassal  Grove,  near  Hagley,  where 
he  had  a  farm.  There  I  visited  him,  and  spent  my  time 
most  delightfully,  sometimes  rambling  in  Hagley  Park 
with  his  daughters,  sometimes  walking  over  the  farm 
with  him  and  then  returning  to  his  study,  where  he  would 
pull  down  book  after  book  to  follow  a  reference  or  trace 
a  thought,  with  an  enthusiasm  and  richness  of  memory 
that  was  most  encouraging  to  anybody  fond  of  knowledge. 
He  had  at  that  time  been  studying  Persian.'  These  tastes 
and  this  disposition  in  the  eldest  brother  quite  sufficiently 
account  for  the  abandonment  of  the  bank  and  all  its  con- 
cerns to  the  younger  brothers. 

Thomas  Rogers,  the  second  son,  was  eighteen  months 
older  than  Samuel,  and  appears  to  have  been  devoted 
to  business.  He  had  neither  his  elder  brother's  distaste 
for  it,  nor  his  younger  brother's  literary  ambition.  He 
would  naturally  have  been  his  father's  successor  in  the 
management  of  the  bank;  and  his  diligence  and  care 
justified  the  confidence  reposed  in  him.  He  and  Samuel 
had  become  partners  at  the  same  time  and  on  the  same 
terms,  and  the  relations  between  them  were  those  of 
perfect  confidence.  They  dined  together  every  day  with 
Mr.  Olding,  who  was  the  resident  partner,  and  lived  over 
the  bank.  At  holiday  seasons  they  were  away  from 
business  by  turns ;  and  their  father  wrote  to  them  with 
equal  fulness  and  confidence  respecting  business  and 
family  matters  during  his  somewhat  prolonged  absences 
from  town.  There  are  no  references  in  the  family  cor- 
respondence to  any  ill-health  of  Thomas,  though  such 
references  are  frequent  with  respect  to  Samuel ;  there 
is  only  the  brief  record  that  he  died  on  the  15th  of 
April,  1788.  He  was  then  in  his  twenty-seventh  year. 
The  last  letter  from  him  is  dated  the  13th  of  August, 
1787,  and  tells  his  father  of  a  journey  he  had  just  taken 


DEATH  OF  HIS  BROTHER  THOMAS.  73 

to  Ostend  and  Bruges,  and  of  Sam's  setting  out  for 
Launde  at  the  end' of  that  week  or  the  beginning  of  the 
next.  His  father  replies  on  the  16th  from  Derby,  and 
enters  into  a  good  deal  of  business  detail.  Thomas's 
death  is  spoken  of  by  Samuel  in  the  second  part  of  '  The 
Pleasures  of  Memory,'  where,  after  saying  that  — 

* ...  as  the  softening  hand  of  Time  endears 
The  joys  and  sorrows  of  our  infant  years,'  — 

SO,  in  a  brighter  world,  — 

* .  .  .  the  soul,  released  from  human  strife, 
Smiles  at  the  little  cares  and  ills  of  life ; ' 

and  after  imagining  the  spirits  of  the  d'ead  descending 
to  watch  the  silent  slumbers  of  a  friend,  he  invokes  his 
brother :  — 

'  Oh,  thou,  with  whom  my  heart  was  wont  to  share, 
From  Reason's  dawn,  each  pleasure  and  each  care,  — 
With  whom,  alas  !  I  fondly  hoped  to  know 
The  humble  walks  of  happiness  below ; 
If  thy  blest  nature  now  unites  above 
An  angel's  pity  with  a  brother's  love, 
Still  o'er  my  life  preserve  thy  mild  control, 
Correct  my  views  and  elevate  my  soul ; 
Grant  me  thy  peace  and  purity  of  mind. 
Devout  yet  cheerful,  active  yet  resigned ; 
Grant  me,  like  thee,  whose  heart  knew  no  disguise, 
Whose  blameless  wishes  never  aimed  to  rise, 
To  meet  the  changes  Time  and  Chance  present, 
With  modest  dignity  and  calm  content. 
When  thy  last  breath,  ere  Nature  sank  to  rest, 
Thy  meek  submission  to  thy  God  expressed. 
When  thy  last  look,  ere  thought  and  feeling  fled, 
A  mingled  gleam  of  hope  and  triumph  shed. 
What  to  thy  soul  its  glad  assurance  gave. 
Its  hope  in  death,  its  triumph  o'er  the  grave  ? 
The  sweet  remembrance  of  unblemished  youth, 
The  still  inspiring  voice  of  Innocence  and  Truth !  * 


74  EAKLY  LIFE  OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Nothing  can  be  added  to  this  admirable  description  of 
Thomas  Eogers's  character ;  and  no  better  account  can 
be  given  of  the  relations  between  the  two  brothers,  or  of 
the  death  of  Thomas. 

Henry  Eogers,  the  youngest  son,  was  at  this  time  in 
his  fourteenth  year  and  was  receiving  his  education 
at  the  Hackney  College.  Samuel  was  consequently  left 
alone  with  his  father  in  the  bank.  He  had  already 
shown  much  capacity  for  business,  and  the  larger  re- 
sponsibility which  now  fell  upon  him  found  him  fully 
prepared  by  character,  training,  and  experience  to  meet 
it.  'He  became,'  says  Mr.  Sharpe,  'the  friend  and 
adviser  upon  whom  the  father  relied  for  help  in  all 
matters  of  business.'  At  the  end  of  the  year  in  which 
Thomas  died,  his  father  was  again  out  of  health,  and 
was  advised  to  take  the  Bath  waters.  Sam  was  now 
his  chief  correspondent  at  home,  and  the  letters  which 
passed  from  one  to  the  other  show  the  complete  con- 
fidence which  existed  between  father  and  son.  In  one 
of  the  letters  is  an  interesting  sketch  of  the  company  in 
a  boarding-house  where  Mr.  Rogers  and  his  servant 
Thomas  were  taking  their  meals. 

'  I  like  my  lodging-home  exceedingly,  and  Mrs.  Cottle 
is  very  kind  and  obliging  to  me.  There  is  only  one 
other  lodger  in  the  house,  —  Sir  Gervase  Clifton,  who 
has  the  drawing-room  floor;  I  have  the  dining  floor. 
The  worst  of  it  is,  Mrs.  Cottle  has  declined  keeping  a 
boarding  table,  but  very  strongly  recommended  me  to  a 
neighbor  three  doors  from  her,  and  where  Thomas  and  I 
board.  The  company  is  strangely  made  up  indeed,  and 
consists  of  Sir  Gervase,  a  perfect  Nimrod  and  a  very  fine 
specimen  of  a  country  knight  or  squire ;  M.  de  Linne,  a 
French  gentleman,  young,  lively,  and  sensible,  who  talks 
English  tolerably  well,  and  has  been  two  years  amusing 
himself  in  England;  Mr.  Tann,  a  young  German,  who 


HIS  FATHER'S  LETTERS.  75 

speaks  all  the  European  languages,  is  a  great  traveller, 
who  laughs,  talks  loud,  and  is  very  comical;  Major 
Bennet,  in  the  East  India  Service,  who  was  very  near 
being  taken  by  Tippoo  with  General  Matthews,  but 
escaped  captivity  and  perhaps  death  by  being  left  sick 
in  quarters  a  few  days  before,  —  the  Major  is  very  good- 
natured,  quiet  and  civil,  but  very  gouty,  and  I  am  afraid 
not  very  rich,  having  no  servant  with  him ;  a  Mr.  Law- 
ley,  an  old  gentleman  from  Warwickshire,  a  relative  of 
the  county  member,  one  of  the  most  wretched  beings  I 
ever  saw.  He  seems  perfectly  well,  but 'says  that  such 
is  the  state  of  his  nerves  that  nobod}^  can  have  any  con- 
ception of  the  miserable  manner  in  which  he  passes  his 
days  and  nights ;  he  has  long  been  in  this  way,  always 
complaining  but  never  pitied.  The  last  of  our  males  I 
shall  mention  is  a  very  well-behaved  young  Irishman,  who 
has  lately  taken  orders  and  serves  as  our  chaplain.' 

The  account  of  the  women  at  table  is  defective,  being 
torn  by  the  seal.  Another  letter  to  Sam,  dated  Tuesday, 
6th  January,  1789,  is  worth  quoting,  as  showing  what 
the  winter  journey  from  Bath  to  London  was  nearly  a 
hundred  years  ago :  — 

'The  severity  of  the  weather  has  compelled  me  to 
give  up  all  thoughts  of  riding  any  part  of  the  way  to 
town,  and  I  have  just  taken  a  place  in  a  two-day  coach 
that  leaves  Bath  to-morrow  morning  at  eight  o'clock. 
It  stops  all  night  at  Newbury,  and  gets  to  Piccadilly  the 
next  day  about  four  o'clock.  You  will  be  so  good,  there- 
fore, as  to  order  William  to  be  at  the  White  Horse  Cellar, 
or  coffee-house,  Piccadilly,  at  four  o'clock  on  Thursday 
afternoon  with  the  coach.  But  as  the  cold  will  probably 
continue  to  be  very  intense,  he  had  better  put  up  the 
horses  as  near  to  the  White  Horse  as  he  can,  and  be 
in  waiting  at  the  White  Horse  till  the  coach  comes  in. 


76  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Before  I  took  my  place  I  learned  that  three  places  were 
before  taken,  so  that  I  hope  we  shall  keep  each  other 
from  freezing.' 

In  the  summer  of  this  year  Samuel  Rogers  made  a 
journey  to  the  north  of  England  and  Scotland,  of  which 
he  has  left  some  very  interesting  records  in  the  shape  of 
letters  and  diaries.  He  had  just  entered  his  twenty- 
seventh  year,  and  among  literary  people  was  already 
beginning  to  be  known  as  the  author  of  a  volume  of 
poems,  and  as  a  young  man  of  much  conversational 
power.  The  journey  was  made  on  horseback,  with  a 
servant  on  a  second  horse.  The  route  was  by  way  of 
Stamford  to  York,  Leeds,  and  Harrogate,  through  Settle 
and  Ingleton  to  Lancaster,  thence  by  Rydal,  Keswick, 
and  Penrith  to  Carlisle,  thence  by  Hawick,  Selkirk,  and 
Melrose  to  Edinburgh ;  from  Edinburgh  to  Stirling, 
thence  to  Crieff  and  Inverary,  back  to  Glasgow,  and 
returning  by  Dumfries,  Carlisle,  Appleby,  across  York- 
shire, and  through  Mansfield,  Nottingham,  Leicester,  and 
Northampton  to  London.  The  tour  extended  from  about 
Midsummer  Day  to  the  end  of  the  first  week  in  August. 
Two  letters  to  his  sister  Sarah  will  appropriately  intro- 
duce the  Diary,  which  more  fully  records  his  conversa- 
tions and  observations. 

*  Keswick,  July  8  [1789]. 
'Dear  Sarah,  —  I  have  this  moment  received  Mrs. 
Mitchell's  kind  letter,  and  desire  my  best  thanks  to  her 
for  it.  I  have  also  to  thank  you  for  yours  which  I  re- 
ceived at  Lancaster.  I  wrote  thence  to  Mrs.  W.,  and 
hope  she  has  heard  from  me  before  this.  On  Friday 
morning  I  left  Lancaster,  and  arrived  that  evening  at 
Lowwood,  a  very  pleasant  lone  house  on  the  banks  of 
Windermere.  The  next  morning  I  sailed  on  the  water, 
and  had  a  few  thunder-showers,  but  enjoyed  the  day 


AT  THE  LAKES.  77 

exceedingly.  In  the  evening  saw  some  waterfalls  near 
Ambleside,  and  returned  to  Lowwood,  where  the  moon 
played  deliciously  on  the  water.  On  Sunday  I  went  to 
church  at  Grasmere  on  my  way  to  Keswick,  and  after- 
wards proceeded  towards  that  place,  but  was  soon  over- 
taken by  a  heavy  rain  and  obliged  to  shelter  in  the  Vale 
of  St.  John.  There  I  stayed  till  nine  at  night,  when, 
though  the  rain  did  not  abate,  I  was  obliged  to  go  for- 
ward, and  had  a  very  unpleasant  ride  through  one  of 
the  most  romantic  tracts  of  country  in  Cumberland. 
The  next  morning  proved  very  fine,  and  I  rode  round 
the  lake  of  Derwentwater,  saw  Lodore  waterfall,  and  the 
Grange  and  Straits  of  Borrowdale.  In  the  evening  I 
walked  in  Crow  Park,  a  favorite  spot  of  Gray's.  The 
next  morning  proving  very  clear  I  was  induced  to  mount 
Skiddaw,  in  company  with  a  young  lady  from  Penrith 
(very  handsome  and  very  musical),  Mr.  Ewer,  a  first 
cousin  of  Mr.  Ewer  of  Clapham,  and  Dr.  Coyte,  a  phy- 
sician at  Ipswich  who  has  left  off  practice,  a  great 
botanist  and  a  very  agreeable  man.  We  rode  on  horse- 
back to  the  summit,  from  whence  we  had  a  very  fine  view 
of  Scotland,  over  Solway  Eirth,  with  the  Isle  of  Man. 
Many  of  the  lakes  and  mountains  of  Cumberland  com- 
posed the  foreground.  When  we  descended,  we  dined  at 
a  charming  house  that  looks  directly  up  Bassenthwaite 
Lake,  and  returned  along  one  of  its  sides  to  Keswick. 
We  had  a  very  rainy  evening.  This  morning  I  rode  with 
the  guide  up  the  vales  of  Buttermere,  Lorton,  and  New- 
lands,  —  places  that  my  father  is  well  acquainted  with 
most  probably,  —  and  in  the  evening  went  out  on  the  lake 
of  Keswick.  In  returning  from  my  ride  about  six  o'clock 
I  was  wet  through ;  but  this  was  the  second  time  only 
that  I  have  been  obliged  to  change  everything.  I  often 
change  my  stockings  twice  a  day ;  but  in  general  I  con- 
sider myself  as  tolerably  fortunate  in  the  weather, 
though  confinement  at  an  inn  to  a  single  man  is  rather 


78  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

dull.  From  the  rain  I  derive  some  advantages.  The 
waterfalls  are  improved  by  it,  and  it  affords  me  a  decent 
excuse  for  calling  at  the  farm-houses  and  cottages  on  the 
road,  where  I  always  hnd  the  heartiest  welcome,  and  am 
delighted  with  the  simplicity  and  native  politeness  of 
the  inhabitants.  To-morrow  I  bid  adieu  to  Keswick,  and 
after  spending  a  day  or  two  at  Ulleswater  shall  proceed 
to  Carlisle  and  Edinburgh.  Any  letter  written  to  me 
on  or  before  Wednesday  next  may  be  directed  to  me 
at  Edinburgh.  I  hope  Henry  has  recovered  his  spirits 
before  this  ;  indeed  I  don't  doubt  it.  Pray  give  my  kind 
love  and  duty  to  my  father  and  [remember  me]  affection- 
ately to  Mrs.  M.  and  Milly.  Tell  ^  .  .  .  I  won't  trouble 
her  to  write  to  me.  I  will  .  .  .  her  to  read  such  letters 
as  I  write.  [My  ex]cuse  for  them  is  that  they  are  gen- 
erally [hurried]  over  when  I  am  tired  and  heavy  and  im- 
patient. Adieu,  dear  Sarah ;  believe  me  to  [remain], 
*  Your  affectionate  friend  and  [brother], 

^  Samuel  Kogers. 

*  P.  S.  I  wrote  to  Patty  from  Lancaster,  and  to  .  .  . 
from  Keswick.  I  like  my  servant  exceedingly  ;  he  takes 
great  care  of  my  horses,  which  are  both  well.  I  have 
got  rid  of  my  cold.  I  have  just  read  in  the  papers  of  the 
duel  between  Colonel  Lenox  and  Mr.  Swift.  I  am  sorry 
to  find  the  result  of  it,  as  Mr.  Swift  is  a  very  agreeable, 
sensible  man.  You  may  remember  my  mentioning  that 
I  drank  tea  with  him  last  time  at  Mrs.  Williams's  house. 
With  respect  to  Dr.  Kippis,  if  he  has  not  sent  the  letters 
he  promised  me,  there  would,  I  think,  be  no  impropriety 
in  just  sending  to  inform  him  that  you  were  sending  to 
me  at  Edinburgh,  and  to  ask  him  if  he  has  any  letter  or 
commission  to  convey  thither,  as  I  had  mentioned  my 
expectation  of  something  of  the  kind.  Indeed,  he  told 
me  that  he  should  at  the  same  time  contrive  to  transact 

1  Parts  are  obliterated  by  being  torn  in  opening  the  seaL 


VISIT  TO  EDINBURGH.  79 

some  real  business  with  each  of  the  gentlemen  he  wrote 
to.     But  I  would  not  have  it  done  if  thought  in  the  least 
improper,  though  I  know  Dr.  Kippis  is  the  last  man  in 
the  world  to  take  the  least  umbrage  at  it. 
'  Miss  Sarah  Rogers, 
*Newiiigton  Green,  Middlesex.' 

Another  letter  gives  an  account  of  his  visit  to  Edin- 
burgh :  — 

*  Stirling,  July  21,  1789. 

'My  dear  Sarah, — I  received  your  kind  letter  on 
Friday  at  Edinburgh,  which  gave  me  great  pleasure,  as 
it  assured  me  that  you  were  all  well.  In  consequence  of 
the  letters  my  father  was  so  kind  as  to  enclose  to  me  my 
time  passed  so  pleasantly  there  that  I  should  have  left  it 
with  regret,  if  the  Highlands  had  not  promised  me  ample 
amends.  Saturday  morning  proving  rainy,  I  could  not 
resist  the  temptation  of  staying  till  Sunday,  and  I  heard 
Dr.  Kobertson  in  the  morning,  and  Dr.  Blair  in  the 
afternoon.  They  are  neither  of  them  orators,  but  Dr. 
Eobertson  has  a  serious,  unaffected  manner  which  pleased 
me  very  much.  Dr.  Blair  is  very  pompous  in  his  delivery, 
and  all  the  great  and  fashionable  attend  at  his  church. 
He  gave  us  a  sermon  on  censoriousness,  which  I  under- 
stand is  soon  to  be  published,  with  some  others,  in  a  third 
volume.  I  have  dined  twice  at  Mr.  Adam  Smith's,  who 
is  a  very  friendly,  agreeable  man,  and  I  should  have 
dined  and  supped  with  him  almost  every  day  if  I  had 
accepted  all  his  invitations.  He  took  me  to  a  club,  which 
is  very  select,  and  consists  of  all  the  first  men  in  Edin- 
burgh. At  his  house  I  met  Mr.  Mackenzie,  author  of 
"  The  Man  of  Feeling,"  etc.,  who  invited  me  very  politely, 
but  I  had  the  resolution  to  refuse.  Dr.  Robertson  called 
upon  me  twice,  when  I  had  the  ill  luck  to  be  out ;  but  I 
saw  him  twice  at  his  own  house,  and  I  shall  always  think 
of  Edinburgh  with  gratitude,  for  the  many  instances  of 


80  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

attention  and  civility  I  met  with  there ;  indeed,  if  I 
were  to  judge  from  my  own  experience,  I  should  think 
that  the  inhabitants  (at  least  the  most  eminent  of  them) 
devoted  their  whole  time  to  the  entertainment  of  stran- 
gers. Dr.  Kobertson's  deafness  affects  his  spirits  very 
much ;  but  with  the  assistance  of  a  trumpet  he  can  con- 
verse with  tolerable  ease  to  himself  and  other  people, 
and  is  very  entertaining. 

*  I  have  been  very  much  struck  with  the  situation  of 
Hopton  House  and  Stirling  Castle.  I  admire  the  last 
even  more  than  Edinburgh  Castle,  when  viewed  from 
a  distance.  From  hence  I  shall  go  on  by  Inverary  to 
Glasgow,  which  I  shall  reach  on  Saturday,  and  then 
leave  my  horses  and  proceed  directly  home,  where  I  hope 
to  arrive  on  Friday  or  Saturday  following.  I  have  ex- 
ceeded my  time,  and  begin  to  be  tired  of  rambling ;  but 
I  shall  be  very  sorry  if  I  occasion  my  father  to  delay  his 
journey  with  any  inconvenience  to  himself.  Nothing  but 
his  kind  assurances  to  the  contrary  would  have  induced 
me  to  extend  my  time  as  I  have  done.  I  beg  my  love 
and  duty  to  him,  and  desire  to  be  kindly  remembered  to 
Mrs.  M.  and  Mrs.  W.,  Martha  and  Maria ;  and  remain, 
dear  Sarah, 

'  Your  sincere  friend  and  affectionate  brother, 

^Samuel  Kogers. 

'P.  S.  I  am  very  well,  and  my  horse  seems  entirely 
recovered  from  his  lameness. 

*Miss  Sarah  Rogers, 
*  Newington  Green,  Middlesex.* 

During  his  stay  at  Edinburgh,  Rogers  kept  a  short 
journal  of  his  visits.  The  letters  he  had  taken  from  Dr. 
Price,  and  those  which  his  father  had  forwarded  to  him 
from  Dr.  Kippis,  opened  to  him  the  doors  of  Edinburgh 
society,  —  then  almost  in  its  most  brilliant  period.  His 
acquaintance  with  the  Piozzis  began  at  the  same   time. 


ADAM  SMITH;  MACKENZIE;  ROBERTSON.  81 

They  were  staying  in  the  same  hotel,  and  the  landlord 
having  told  them  who  Rogers  was,  and  that  Dr.  Eobertson, 
Mr.  Adam  Smith,  and  Mr.  H.  Mackenzie  had  called 
on  him,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Piozzi  called  and  introduced  them- 
selves. Eogers  always  said  that  one  of  the  most  mem- 
orable days  in  his  life  was  the  Sunday  in  Edinburgh,  on 
which  he  had  breakfast  with  Dr.  Robertson  and  heard  him 
preach  in  the  morning,  heard  Dr.  Blair  in  the  afternoon, 
took  coffee  with  the  Piozzis,  and  then  supped  with  Adam 
Smith  in  the  evening.     The  following  is  his  journal :  — 

^Edinburgh,  Wednesday,  July  15,  1789.  —  Called  on 
Dr.  Robertson.  In  the  parlor  hung  his  portrait  by  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds.  He  soon  entered,  with  his  trumpet 
in  his  hand.  His  dress  was  remarkably  neat,  and  his 
countenance  very  open  and  pleasing.  Compared  him  with 
the  picture,  but  could  not  trace  a  very  striking  resem- 
blance. His  eye  has  lost  much  of  its  fire,  and  age  has 
given  a  stoop  to  his  figure.  The  conversation  began  on 
the  English  Universities,  and  the  absurdity  of  proposing  a 
test  to  a  poor  boy  of  seventeen.  He  said  that  Edinburgh 
contained  little  worth  notice,  but  that  its  situation  was 
very  romantic ;  that  Gilpin  had  not  done  justice  to  the 
Highlands  ;  he  saw  everything  with  the  eye  of  a  painter, 
but  many  a  scene  gives  pleasure  which  will  not  make  a 
good  picture.  Richmond  Hill  is  peculiarly  striking  to  a 
Scotchman  for  its  richness  and  amenity,  but  is  by  no 
means  a  fit  subject  for  the  artist.  Advised  me  to  make 
the  home  tour,  but  to  reverse  Mr.  Gilpin's  route,  —  to  be- 
gin with  Inverary  and  return  by  Dunkeld.  Said  Mr.  Gray 
devoted  a  month  to  the  lakes ;  that  his  cicerone,  Hodg- 
kins,  who  was  a  sensible  fellow,  described  him  as  difficult 
to  be  pleased,  and  peevish  from  ill-health  ;  that  he  could 
not  ride  on  horseback,  and  would  not  go  on  the  water. 

^  July  16.  —  Called  on  Adam  Smith,  who  was  sitting 
at  breakfast  with  a  plate  of  strawberries  on  the  table. 

6 


82  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  EOGERS. 

Fruit,  he  said,  was  his  favorite  diet  at  this  season. 
Strawberries  were  a  northern  fruit.  In  the  Orkneys  and 
in  Sweden  they  were  to  perfection.  Said  that  Edin- 
burgh deserved  little  notice ;  that  the  old  town  had 
given  Scotland  a  bad  name ;  that  he  was  anxious  to 
move  into  the  new  town,  and  had  set  his  heart  on  St. 
George's  Square ;  that  Edinburgh  was  entirely  supported 
by  the  three  Courts,  —  the  Exchequer,  the  Excise,  and 
the  Judiciary  Courts  ;  that  Loch  Lomond  was  the  finest 
lake  in  Great  Britain,  —  the  islands  were  very  beautiful, 
and  formed  a  very  striking  contrast  to  the  shores ;  that 
the  soil  of  Scotland  was  excellent,  but  that  its  harvests, 
from  the  severity  of  the  climate,  were  too  often  over- 
taken by  winter;  that  the  Scotch  on  the  borders  were 
to  this  day  in  extreme  poverty ;  and  that  when  he  first 
left  Scotland,  he  was  on  horseback,  and  was  struck  with 
the  transition  as  he  approached  Carlisle;  that  our  late 
refusal  of  corn  to  France  must  excite  indignation  and 
contempt,  —  the  quantity  required  was  so  trifiing  that 
it  would  not  support  Edinburgh  for  a  day.  Said  that 
in  Paris  as  well  as  in  Edinburgh  the  houses  were  piled 
one  upon  another.  Spoke  contemptuously  of  Sir  John 
Sinclair,  but  said  that  he  never  knew  a  man  who  was  in 
earnest  and  who  did  not  do  something  at  last.  Said  he 
did  not  know  Mrs.  Piozzi,  and  believed  her  to  be  spoiled 
by  keeping  company  with  odd  people. 

^July  19.  —  Called  at  two,  when  all  the  bells  of  the 
kirk  were  ringing,  to  take  leave  of  Adam  Smith.  His 
chair  was  waiting  to  take  him  an  airing.  He  met  me  at 
the  door.  Asked  me  how  I  liked  the  Club.  Had  before 
mentioned  Bogle  as  very  clever,  and  expressed  pleasure 
at  the  thought  of  his  being  there.  He  now  said :  "  That 
Bogle,  I  was  sorry  he  talked  so  much,  he  spoiled  the 
evening."  He  seemed  to  apologize  for  him.  Invited 
me  to  supper  and  to  dinner  next  day,  as  he  had  asked 
Mackenzie  to  meet  me.    Who  could  refuse  ? 


ROBERTSON;  BLAIR;  ADAM  SMITH.  83 

'Heard  Dr.  Kobertson  in  the  raorning.  An  old 
church;  sweet  singing.  His  manner  striking,  but  not 
graceful;  his  voice  not  unpleasing.  He  spoke  and 
looked  like  a  good  man.  The  service  began  with  a 
psalm,  then  a  prayer,  then  a  psalm,  then  a  commentary 
on  the  first  chapter  of  the  Second  Epistle  to  the  Thessa- 
lonians,  which  lasted  twenty-five  minutes ;  then  a  short 
prayer,  then  the  sermon,  twenty-five  minutes  long. 
Text  from  Psalms,  "  Praise  ye  the  Lord."  The  second 
part  of  a  discourse  on  *' Thanksgiving,"  then  a  psalm, 
and  then  a  prayer.  He  seemed  to  direct  himself  partic- 
ularly to  us,  and  after  church,  when  we  joined  him,  he 
inquired  my  route,  and  said  that  if  I  kept  anything  of  a 
journal,  at  night  I  should  not  find  it  dull.  Reminded 
me  of  Lord  Rosebery's  park.  "  All  good  things  attend 
you,  sir."     We  parted. 

'  Heard  Dr.  Blair  in  the  afternoon,  but  not  distinctly. 
A  hoarse,  unpleasant  voice.  A  very  neat,  elegant  ser- 
mon on  "  Censoriousness,"  in  which  was  a  tine  parallel 
between  that  vice  and  charity.  Charity  covereth  a  mul- 
titude of  sins,  censoriousness  makes  it  its  business  to 
divulge  them.  Afterwards  bowed  to  the  corporation 
in  the  gallery  on  the  right.  Walked  home  with  the 
Piozzis.  Drank  coffee  with  them  and  heard  P.  perform 
some  of  his  music  on  the  harpsichord. 

*  Repaired  at  nine  to  Mr.  A.  Smith's :  present,  all  the 
company  of  Friday  except  Bogle  and  Macaulay.  Mr. 
Playfair,  a  mathematician,  and  Mr.  Muir  from  Gottingen 
were  there.  Talked  of  Junius.  Adam  Smith  suspected 
"single  speech"  Hamilton  to  be  the  author.  He  was 
told  by  Gibbon  that  when  Hamilton  one  day  paid  a 
visit  at  the  Duke  of  Richmond's  in  Sussex,  he  told  him 
that  there  was  a  devilish  keen  letter  from  Junius  in  the 
"  Public  Advertiser  "  of  that  day,  and  mentioned  some  of 
the  passages.  The  duke  was  anxious  to  see  it ;  but  when 
the  paper  came  there  was  an  apology  in  it  for  its  not 


84  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

appearing.  It  was  a  letter  to  the  Duke  of  Riclimond, 
and  the  last  that  appeared.  As  long  as  they  were 
ascribed  to  Lord  Lansdowne,  Burke,  Germaine,  etc., 
they  went  on ;  but  as  soon  as  they  were  said  to  be  Ham- 
ilton's they  were  dropped.  Adam  Smith  said  Turgot 
was  an  honest,  well-meaning  man,  but  unacquainted 
with  the  world  and  human  nature;  that  it  was  his 
maxim  (he  mentioned  it  to  Mr.  Hume  but  never  to 
Smith)  that  whatever  is  right  may  be  done.  He  said 
that  Nicholas  Herbert,  uncle  to  Lord  Porchester,  had 
read  the  list  of  the  Eton  boys  and  repeated  them  four 
years  afterwards  to  Lord  Porchester.  He  knew  him 
well.  He  (A.  Smith)  had  been  in  Voltaire's  company 
five  or  six  times.  Voltaire  had  a  great  aversion  to  the 
States,  and  was  rather  attached  to  the  king.  [Said] 
that  his  old  friend  the  Duke  of  Eichelieu  was  a  singular 
character,  and  that  when  he  slipped  down  at  Versailles 
a  few  years  before  his  death,  said  it  was  the  first  faux 
pas  he  had  ever  made  at  Court.  Dr.  Smith  said  he  had 
been  bastilled  more  than  once.  Dr.  Black  said  that 
when  in  Germany  he  [Duke  of  Richelieu]  borrowed 
plate  of  the  goldsmiths  and  gentlemen  there,  and  never 
returned  it.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Piozzi  said  Pennant  was  her 
cousin.  She  should  get  me  to  introduce  her  to  Mrs. 
Barbauld. 

<  July  20.  —  Heard  a  swindler  tried  in  the  Parliament 
House.  Dined  at  Mr.  Adam  Smith's  with  Mr.  Mac- 
kenzie, Mr.  Muir,  and  Mr.  McGowan.  Mackenzie  an- 
swered P.'s  description,  —  of  very  soft  and  pleasing 
manners.  Admired  Mrs.  Smith's  sonnets  and  Mrs. 
Hunter's.  Adam  Smith  said  Blair  was  too  much  puffed 
off ;  was  surprised  at  Johnson's  reputation.  Mackenzie 
inquired  after  Hannah  More  and  admired  her  "Percy;" 
spoke  slightly  of  Merry  and  [of]  Blair's  sermon  on 
Sunday;  said  there  were  few  in  the  Highlands  wlio 
pretended  to  second  sight ;  that  there  was  a  gentleman 


TOUR  THROUGH   SCOTLAND  IN  1789.  85 

who  pretended  it  to  keep  up  authority  and  order  there ; 
that  on  going  to  see  John  O'Gaunt's  house  he  was 
detained  by  rain  in  a  cottage  from  nine  to  one,  and 
heard  some  wonderful  stories  that  would  have  lasted  till 
now ;  mentioned  an  epigram  on  Mr.  Smith's  sleeping  at 
the  Royal  Society ;  spoke  well  of  "  Emmeline  "  and  of  the 
"Sonnet  on  Shipboard"  in  it.  Dr.  Hutton  drank  tea 
with  us,  and  we  afterwards  went  to  the  Royal  Society. 
Only  seven  persons  there.  Dr.  Anderson  read  an  essay 
on  Debtors  and  the  revision  of  the  laws  that  respect 
them,  written  by  himself,  very  long  and  dull.  Mr.  Com- 
missioner Smith  fell  asleep.  Mackenzie  touched  my 
elbow  and  smiled;  afterwards  said  he  should  be  glad 
to  see  me ;  sent  him  my  book.  Went  afterwards  to 
the  play  "  Hippolita  "  and  the  "  Romp."  Sat  in  the  box 
over  the  stage,  shut  in,  in  the  Italian  style,  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Piozzi,  Miss  Thrale,  Mr.  Bruce,  and  a  very  hand- 
some woman  and  her  brother.  Very  lively  and  pleasant. 
Mrs.  Jordan  directed  herself  to  the  box. 

'  July  21.  —  Left  Edinburgh  at  six.  Rode  through  Lord 
Rosebery's  park  to  Queensferry  along  the  Forth,  and 
there  breakfasted.  Walked  in  Lord  Hopton's  grounds, 
and  was  full  of  admiration.  Had  a  delightful  ride  along 
the  Forth  to  Falkirk ;  then  saw  the  Carron  works,  five 
furnaces,  each  with  four  cylinders.  A  thousand  men 
employed  there.  Saw  the  forges.  Proceeded  to  Stirling; 
saw  a  beautiful  valley  on  the  right,  bounded  by  the 
Athol  hill ;  saw  Falkirk  moor,  and  Torwood,  where 
Wallace  and  his  men  concealed  themselves.  Much 
struck  with  the  first  view  of  Stirling.  The  grandest  and 
prettiest  thing  in  the  world. 

^July  22.  —  Set  out  on  a  military  road.  The  scene 
gradually  grew  wilder  till  we  came  to  Dunblane,  in  a 
rich  and  pleasant  valley.  Saw  the  church,  a  monument 
of  Knox's  vengeance.  It  was  built  by  one  of  the  Davids. 
Rode  through  a  wild  country  to  Greenloaning,  a  mile  and 


86  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

a  half  beyond  which,  on  the  right,  is  the  finest  Eoman 
station  in  England,  according  to  Dr.  Eobertson.  It  is 
encompassed  with  dykes  and  ramparts  four  deep,  and 
contains  three  or  four  acres  of  ground.  Just  beyond 
Dunblane  the  field  of  battle  in  the  year  '15  was  pointed 
out  to  me  on  a  moor  to  the  right.  Arrived  at  Crieff,  in 
a  cultivated  vale.  There  a  girl  sang  me  an  Erse  song 
over  the  washing-tub.  She  said  it  was  made  by  a  young 
man  in  praise  of  his  sweetheart,  but  would  not  explain  it. 
The  notes  were  simple  and  melancholy,  but  without  much 
harmony  or  sweetness.  It  lasted  ten  minutes,  and  was 
sung  very  fast.  Left  Crieff,  and  soon  entered  a  deep 
valley  that  opened  and  closed  as  I  advanced  and  receded. 
Very  grand  and  awful.  Left  the  Inverness  Eoad  at  the 
tenth  milestone,  and  soon  passed  along  a  considerable 
loch  and  several  little  villages  among  trees.  Saw  a 
woman  extracting  a  thorn  from  the  foot  of  an  old  High- 
lander, and  a  boy  in  his  plaid  watching  sheep.  Spoke  to 
two  who  could  not  speak  English.  Observed  the  cottages 
with  the  smoke  in  them.  Ascended  a  steep  hill  and  soon 
came  to  a  beautiful  view.  Taymouth  Castle  and  park, 
through  which  the  Tay  ran,  lay  at  my  feet,  and  refreshed 
my  aching  eyes  with  the  softest  verdure.  Behind  rose 
hanging  woods  to  a  great  height,  and  to  the  left  opened 
Loch  Tay  in  the  bosom  of  the  mountains,  with  the 
village  church  of  Kenmore  at  the  head  of  it.  Dined  on 
a  trout.  The  village  very  fond  of  dancing.  Waited  on 
at  dinner  by  a  teacher  of  the  art.  Saw  the  castle  and 
park.  A  walk  on  the  banks  of  the  Tay  not  equal  to  its 
fame.  Had  a  sweet  evening  walk  by  the  lake.  Saw 
the  fallow  deer  in  the  park. 

*  Juhj  23.  —  Kode  along  the  left  bank  of  the  lake.  Saw 
the  Hermitage  and  Fall,  which  rather  disappointed  me. 
The  views  down  the  lake  very  fine,  particularly  from  the 
fifth  stone.  Gilpin  rode  on  the  other  side,  before  this 
road  was  made.     The  lake  had  a  line  of  surf  that  slanted 


TOUR  THROUGH  SCOTLAND  IN  1789.  87 

into  the  middle  for  a  mile ;  imagined  it  to  arise  from  a 
hidden  reef  of  rock.  Several  little  clusters  of  cottages 
on  its  banks.  Saw  the  inside  of  one.  It  was  divided 
into  three  apartments.  The  door  opened  into  the  first, 
in  which  was  a  little  lean  cow.  In  the  middle  room  was 
the  fire,  over  which  was  a  hole  in  the  roof,  and  on  the 
other  side  was  the  bedchamber.  Came  to  Killin,  through 
which  runs  a  rocky  torrent  into  the  lake.  On  the  bank 
of  this  were  several  women  and  girls  dipping  their 
clothes  into  the  river,  and  spreading  them  out  on  the 
green  margin,  like  kings'  daughters  of  old.  Saw  a  girl 
stamping  in  a  tub  to  wash.  In  the  river  is  an  island,  — 
the  laird  of  McNab's  burying-place.  Saw  a  little  girl  of 
four  years  old  footing  it  in  imitation  of  a  reel.  Break- 
fasted at  Killin.  The  Reel  Master  mentioned  before 
comes  here  for  two  months  in  the  year,  and  opens  a 
school  for  dancing.  On  weddings  and  holidays  fifty  are 
sometimes  collected  to  dance.  Set  off  through  rude, 
rocky,  and  romantic  country,  with  the  river  gliding  on 
my  left  hand;  it  changes  its  character  several  times. 
Passed  several  hills  with  snow  in  the  hollows  on  their 
summits.  From  the  hill  before  the  inn  at  Killin  saw 
for  miles  up  the  glen  Dr.  Eobertson  mentioned.  It  is 
romantic  and  woody,  with  a  river  running  up  it.  It 
extends  ten  miles ;  I  saw  about  five  of  it.  Called,  on 
my  way  to  Tyndrum,  at  a  cottage,  and  saw  an  old  woman 
at  her  spinning-wheel  who  answered  me  in  Erse.  Saw 
several  parties  on  their  travels  on  foot,  and  a  boy  who 
kept  up  with  us  for  some  time.  A  Highlander  thinks 
no  more  of  a  twenty-mile  stage  than  of  a  walk  for  an 
appetite  before  breakfast.  Pound  afterwards  from  a 
traveller  that  the  old  woman  I  called  on  was  a  widow, 
and  kept  house  for  her  son,  who  was  a  shepherd.  She 
said  she  supposed  I  had  no  Erse.  Dined  at  Tyndrum  on 
trout,  wild  venison,  and  goat's  cheese.  At  Killin  saw  a 
hole  said  to  be  Fingal's  grave.     The  laird  had  dug  it  up 


88  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

to  seek  for  the  bones,  but  in  vain.  It  is  a  fine  situation 
for  the  grave  of  a  hero,  —  at  the  foot  of  a  mountain  and 
in  full  view  of  a  lake.  At  Tyndrum  heard  a  Highlander 
whistle  "  The  Ploughboy,"  produced  but  lately  in  the 
comic  opera  of  "  The  Farmer."  Have  been  waited  upon 
everywhere  but  here  by  waiters  in  philibegs  and  maids 
without  stockings. 

*  At  eight  left  Tyndrum,  looked  into  a  hut  and  entered 
the  door,  where  there  was  a  room  full  of  smoke  and  dark- 
ness. For  some  time  could  distinguish  nothing,  till  I 
heard  a  voice  that  seemed  to  encourage  me  to  come 
forward.  Then  I  saw  two  women  over  a  fire,  and  a  man 
in  bed.  The  man  sat  up,  and  one  of  the  women  —  old, 
but  of  a  pleasant  countenance  —  spoke  some  Erse,  and 
then,  stepping  out  to  a  wooden  box  on  the  floor,  took  out 
a  bowl  of  ewe's  milk,  and  saying  in  broken  confused 
sounds,  "  Here 's  health  to  you,  sir,"  tasted  and  gave  it  to 
me.  I  tasted  it,  and  she  appeared  dissatisfied,  and  wanted 
me  to  drink  more.  She  then  came  out  and  offered  it  to 
the  servant,  saying,  "  Will  you  not  drink  some  malk  ?  " 
Her  honest  and  hearty  welcome  affected  me.  I  offered 
her  a  trifle,  but  she  drew  back  her  hand  and  at  first  re- 
fused to  take  it.  Kode  through  a  valley  shut  in  with 
black  mountains,  and  crossed,  every  half  a  mile,  above 
ten  torrents  or  channels  of  torrents.  Passed  only  two 
villages.  Arrived  at  Dalmally,  a  neat  house,  but  they 
could  give  me  no  bread.  After  supper  three  young  women 
came  in,  and  each  taking  the  corner  of  a  napkin,  sang 
their  wild  melody  above  half  an  hour,  moving  the  napkin 
backwards  and  forwards.  The  verses  were  short  and 
simple,  and  ended  in  a  burden  that  was  sung  by  two ; 
the  song  by  the  other.  Sang  a  song  by  a  dairymaid  to 
her  herd  in  praise  of  her  sweetheart ;  a  song  by  a  man  at 
sea  to  his  sweetheart ;  a  song  by  a  lovelorn  maid.  More 
melody  here  than  at  Crieff,  but  very  melancholy  and  rude. 
They  looked  and  sang  sometimes  like  the  weird  sisters. 


TOUR  THROUGH  SCOTLAND  IN  1789.  89 

In  my  way  from  Killin  met  a  man  who  seemed  proud  of 
showing  off  a  little  English.  Asked  me  if  I  came  from 
England  and  was  going  to  Icolmkill,  a  place  he  said  many 
went  to.  I  answered  I  was  not.  He  said  "  Just  so  !  "  a 
very  common  answer,  as  is  "  Indeed  it  is ! " 

*  July  24.  —  Had  a  cold  and  dreary  ride  along  Locli 
Awe  to  Inverary,  the  glory  of  Scotland.  Loch  Fyne,  an 
arm  of  the  sea  above  sixty  miles  in  length,  here  forms  a 
bay,  which,  from  the  bold  projection  of  the  mountains 
that  rise  abruptly  round,  has  the  appearance  of  a  lake  of 
enchanting  beauty.  The  flowing  lines  of  the  mountain 
summits,  and  the  frequent  and  natural  curves  formed  in 
the  shore  by  their  projection,  have  a  fine  effect.  Add  to 
this  the  herring  fishery,  which  impresses  a  busy  char- 
acter on  the  scene,  with  other  vessels  of  greater  size  that 
are  continually  sailing  in  the  offing  or  anchored  near  the 
bank.  On  a  green  lawn  [surrounded]  by  hanging  woods 
the  chieftains  of  the  clan  of  the  Campbells  had  fixed 
their  castle,  and  nearly  on  the  site  of  that  the  Duke  of 
Argyll,  their  descendant,  has  erected  an  elegant  house  of 
the  same  form,  with  turrets  and  battlements.  He  seems 
possessed  of  far  better  taste  than  the  rest  of  the  Scotch 
nobility,  and  has  not  attempted  any  little  decorations, 
thinking  very  properly  that  they  would  degrade  the 
dignity  of  the  scene.  In  the  house  are  pictures  of  the 
present  and  the  last  Dukes  of  Hamilton,  several  Dukes 
of  Argyll,  Lady  Augusta,  Lady  Charlotte,  the  Marquis 
and  his  brother,  and  a  most  bewitching  portrait  of  the 
Duchess  of  Argyll  taken  when  she  was  Duchess  of 
Hamilton. 

^  Left  Inverary  with  a  sigh,  the  sun  shining  mildly  on 
as  sweet  a  scene  as  it  almost  ever  visited.  Rode  round 
the  bay,  commanding  beautiful  views,  particularly  up 
the  loch,  towards  the  sea,  a  fine  vista  of  mountains,  up 
which  a  sail  was  coming.  Drank  tea  at  Cairndow,  and 
proceeded  through  Kinglas  vale,  smooth  to  the  summits, 


90  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

sprinkled  witli  sheep,  but  dark  from  the  clouds  that 
formed  above  it.  A  beautiful  retrospect  towards  In- 
verary,  where  the  sun  seemed  smiling  sweetly ;  before 
me  clouds  and  darkness  and  black  mountains.  Took 
many  a  parting  look. 

'  Entered  Glen  Croe  :  rude  and  romantic  even  beyond 
the  pass  through  which  I  entered  the  Highlands.  Enor- 
mous fragments  lay  on  each  side.  Saw  on  the  top  between 
the  two  vales  "  Kest  and  be  thankful,"  which  Johnson 
and  Gilpin  describe.  Gilpin  is  wrong  in  his  account  of 
the  vales,  —  Kinglas  is  smooth  and  Glen  Croe  rough. 
Arrived  at  New  Arrochar,  a  good  inn,  on  the  banks 
of  Loch  Long,  where  the  herring-boats  were  busy.  A 
sweet  perspective  down  the  loch.  Saw  a  cormorant  flying 
over  it. 

'  July  25.  —  Had  a  very  fine  ride  along  Loch  Lomond 
to  Luss,  the  sun  shining  and  the  air  calm.  The  reflec- 
tion in  the  water  not  so  vivid  as  in  Cumberland.  Walked 
in  the  churchyard  at  Luss.  The  minister's  house  a  neat 
white  house  in  a  quiet  secluded  situation.  His  name  was 
James  Stewart,  a  very  intelligent  man,  who  furnished 
Pennant  with  natural  history  and  Erse  names  of  birds, 
etc.  He  made  the  tour  of  the  northern  lakes  with  Lord 
Mountmorres  last  summer.  Was  rowed  by  a  boy  and 
girl  to  Inchtavannach,  and  from  the  summit  had  a  fine 
geographical  view  of  the  southern  end  of  the  lake,  full 
of  islands.  Saw  that  where  the  osprey  eagle  builds,  very 
small  and  tufted  with  trees.  Sir  James  Colquhoun  won't 
suffer  the  nest  to  be  ever  molested. 

*  Returned  through  a  heavy  rain.  Dined  and  rode 
along  the  lake  till  I  came  to  an  obelisk  with  a  Latin  in- 
scription to  the  memory  of  Dr.  Smollett.  On  the  left,  a 
little  removed  from  the  road,  is  a  single  stone  house  in 
which  he  was  born.  Rode  on  to  Dumbarton,  where  I  saw 
the  castle,  and  arrived  at  Glasgow  in  the  evening.  The 
steps  in  Dumbarton  Castle  are   only  183,  and   not   so 


THE  PIOZZIS.  91 

many  as  Gilpin  states  them.  J.  Stewart  at  Luss  preaches 
in  English  in  the  morning  and  in  Erse  in  the  afternoon. 
He  translated  the  New  Testament  into  Erse,  and  is  now 
engaged  on  the  Old.  He  has  finished  the  Books  of 
Moses.  Saw  only  one  eagle  on  Loch  Lomond.  The 
gardener  at  Inverary  said  he  had  seen  twelve  or  fourteen 
sail  over  the  week  before  in  company.  Saw  the  garden 
there,  but  found  it  to  be  only  a  kitchen  garden.  In  it 
was  a  small  greenhouse,  erected  for  Lady  Augusta,  who 
is  particularly  fond  of  plants.  The  Duke  is  quite  recon- 
ciled to  the  match.  Inverary,  Fort  William,  and  Port 
Glasgow  are  the  three  rainiest  places  in  Scotland. 

^July  26.  —  Called  in  the  morning  on  Mrs.  Piozzi  at 
the  "  Saracen's  Head."  She  dined  with  Dr.  Blair,  who 
said  that  the  Duke  of  Argyll,  when  in  Scotland,  was 
always  pleased  to  hear  that  it  rained  in  the  south,  and 
when  somebody  called  the  rain  at  Inverary  a  shower, 
another  less  polite  said,  "Then  it  is  an  everlasting 
shower."  Walked  round  the  town  with  Piozzi,  stepped 
into  the  "  Hart  Inn  "  and  saw  some  rooms.  Afterwards 
dined  with  them,  and  then  walked  in  the  public  walks. 
Mrs.  Piozzi  expressed  great  anxiety  to  see  the  reviews. 
Said  she  should  look  carefully  into  them  now.  Said 
Cadell  had  no  reason  to  complain  of  his  bargains  with 
her,  for  he  had  always  been  sharp  enough.  Spoke 
rather  slightly  of  Parsons,  but  highly  of  Merry  and 
Greathed.  Found  Miss  Cecilia  Thrale  was  not  more 
than  twelve;  appeared  fifteen.  Spoke  of  Carpenter 
coming  1,100  miles  in  nine  days  ;  that  he  slept  an  hour 
at  Paris,  another  at  Lyons,  another  at  Florence;  re- 
gretted she  did  not  mention  it  in  her  books. 

^  July  27.  —  Called,  and  walked  to  the  college  and  the 
old  church  with  them ;  the  first  very  handsome,  the  last 
bad.  She  talked  much  of  Dr.  Johnson.  At  three  set 
off  in  the  mail  to  Moffat,  and  arrived  there  through 
a  wild    country    at    half-past    eleven.     Saw    Northern 


92  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Lights.  Here  are  wells  similar  to  but  not  so  strong  as 
Harrogate. 

^July2S.  —  Proceeded  in  a  post-chaise  with  an  English 
gentleman  to  Dumfries,  and  there  met  my  horses.  The 
country  but  little  varied.  Saw  Linclouden  College  at  a 
distance.  Dined  and  proceeded  in  a  return  chaise  to 
Annan  along  the  frith,  with  distant  views  of  Skiddaw, 
and  then  to  Gretna  Green,  through  Solway  Moss.  This 
is  a  pretty  village  in  grove  of  trees.  Here  are  two  inns. 
Slept  at  the  wrong  one.  The  right  house  is  a  small 
house  with  some  arms  for  the  sign,  and  stands  in  Spring- 
field, not  Gretna  Green.  Saw  the  parson  at  the  door,  — 
a  tall,  sottish,  good-looking  fellow.  His  name  is  Parsley, 
or  Parsfield,  and  he  is  a  farmer.  The  man  who  used  to 
marry  them  filled  peat  and  dung  carts;  his  name  was 
James  Long  and  his  father's  Peter.  He  signed  his 
name  "James  Long,  Peter's  son."  Lord  Westmoreland 
was  married  at  a  small  ale-house  by  the  river  between 
Gretna  and  Annan,  where  a  new  bridge  is  now  building. 
They  slept  there  afterwards.  Mr.  Henderson,  a  good- 
natured  old  man,  Lord  Storm ont's  factor,  left  his  bed 
for  them.  Everybody  goes  back  to  Carlisle  immediately 
after  the  ceremony.  An  officer  was  obliged  to  pawn  his 
watch  there  in  the  last  spring,  not  having  £30,  the 
money  exacted  for  it.  The  innkeeper  from  Carlisle 
went  with  him  to  get  it  cheaply  done,  but  he  shared 
with  the  parson.  It  was  not  the  landlord  of  the 
"  Bush." 

'  July  29.  —  Crossed  the  sands  in  a  boat,  and  my  horse 
was  led  over.  Breakfasted  again  at  Carlisle,  and  was 
once  more  welcomed  there  with  rain.  Had  a  pleasant 
ride  from  thence  to  Penrith.  Piozzi  said  that  Miss  C. 
Thrale  was  a  good-tempered  girl  and  companion  to  her 
mother,  "for  the  other  daughters,  you  know — "  Here 
he  stopped  and  shrugged  his  shoulders.  She  calls  him 
papa.     Mrs.  Piozzi  talked  of  marriage,  and  said  that  it 


PICTURES  OF  THE  COUNTESS  OF  PEMBROKE.     93 

was  necessary  to  wait  some  time  in  a  parish  ;  then  turning 
to  Piozzi  said,  "  You  know,  my  dear,  we  waited  twenty- 
six  days  in  Bath."  Miss  Thrale  looks  unhappy,  but 
brightens  up  sometimes.  Mrs.  Piozzi  calls  Piozzi  her 
master.  Sadly  out  of  sorts  with  the  Scotch  for  sending 
her  to  Carron ;  said  one  might  as  well  go  to  one's  own 
brewery  and  then  to  see  a  steam-engine.  Said,  "You 
know  why  the  Scotch  wish  to  send  me  to  the  High- 
lands?'' Piozzi  hinted  it  afterwards  and  said  they 
wanted  her  to  contradict  Dr.  Johnson.  Had  a  most 
delicious  ride  to  Appleby,  a  richly  wooded  valley  running 
on  each  side,  bounded  by  mountains.  Saw  Countess 
Pillar,  a  small  octagon  with  her  arms  colored  in  front,  a 
sundial  on  each  side,  and  the  inscription  behind.  The 
stone  table  is  within  a  foot  from  the  ground,  and  about 
three  yards  from  the  pillar.  It  stands  on  a  little  hill 
just  beyond  Brougham  Castle,  about  two  miles  from 
Penrith  and  opposite  a  milestone.  Appleby  is  a  small 
mean  town  in  a  delightful  valley,  and  consists  chiefly  of 
one  street  running  up  the  hill  to  the  castle,  the  tower  of 
which  forms  a  fine  termination.  In  the  castle  hall  are 
three  pictures  of  the  countess,  —  when  a  child;  when 
married,  with  her  husband,  Lord  Dorset,  beside  her; 
and  when  married  to  Pembroke,  a  single  whole  length. 
In  a  small  room  adjoining  are  four  more  pictures  of  her, 
—  when  a  child,  when  a  young  woman,  in  her  first  widow- 
hood, and  in  her  second.  From  all  these  she  appears 
very  handsome.  In  the  picture  of  Lord  Dorset  and  her- 
self are  two  children,  one  of  whom  alone  survived  her, 
and  upon  it  is  written  a  very  minute  history  of  each. 
In  a  room  on  the  other  side  of  the  hall  a  small  door  is 
opened,  and  in  a  closet  appears  the  complete  armor  of 
her  father.  Lord  Clifford,  richly  gilt,  his  helmet,  cuirass, 
and  saddle,  with  the  stirrups  lying  at  his  foot.  A  curious 
lock  on  his  breast  seems  to  keep  it  together.  His  gaunt- 
lets are  on.     In  the  churchyai'd  is  a  pretty  epitaph  on  an 


94  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

officer's  wife  who  accompanied  her  husband  through 
most  parts  of  America,  —  "  Who  knew  her  living  must 
lament  her  dead."     Wandered  till  dusk. 

'July  SO.  —  Had  along  but  not  very  unpleasant  ride 
over  the  mountains  of  Brough  and  Stainmore,  having 
several  distant  views.  Breakfasted  at  Bowes,  and  after- 
wards came  to  the  spot  whence  James  I.  took  his  first 
view  of  England;  then  entered  Leeming  Lane,  which 
runs  in  a  direct  line  for  some  miles  between  shady 
hedge-rows,  with  rich  enclosures  on  each  side,  till  we 
came  to  a  large  heath  whence  we  had  a  beautiful  view  of 
Richmond  and  its  environs  on  the  right  and  the  county 
of  Durham  on  the  left.  Dined  at  Catterick  Bridge,  and 
proceeded  in  the  mail  through  a  flat  but  rich  country  to 
Boroughbridge. 

*  July  31.  —  Had  a  pleasant  ride  in  a  return  chaise  for 
nine  miles  by  Allerton,  just  purchased  by  Col.  Thornton 
of  the  Duke  of  York.  The  house  is  very  large,  but  not 
elegant.  We  had  one  view  of  it.  Bode  two  miles  on 
the  left  to  the  village  of  Cowthorp.  The  celebrated  oak 
stands  in  a  farmyard  near  the  church.  One  half  of  it 
is  bare  of  vegetation  and  shoots  up  its  naked  branches 
in  a  very  fantastic  manner ;  the  other  half  is  not  so  high, 
and  is  full  of  leaves.  The  cavity  within  is  very  spacious 
and  lofty,  about  fifteen  yards  in  circumference.  In  the 
oak-tree  stands  an  immense  block,  detached  from  the 
tree,  once  the  heart  of  it.  Took  away  a  relic.  Saw 
there  a  gentleman  from  Harrogate,  in  the  army,  who 
measured  it.  Eode  through  Wetherby,  a  small  town, 
and  was  confined  for  shelter  under  a  tree  for  four  hours 
with  two  sawyers,  young  men.  Afterwards  came  on  in  a 
return  chaise  to  Ferrybridge  over  a  country  I  had  seen 
between  York  and  Leeds. 

*  August  1.  —  Rode  through  a  flat  but  rich  country  to 
Doncaster.  The  church  is  of  great  antiquity,  and  its 
noble  tower  finely  terminates  almost  every  avenue  to  the 


A  YORKSHIRE  RIDE.  95 

town.  Inquired  here  of  Captain  Stoven,  my  companion 
in  the  mail,  and  found  that  his  father  is  just  dead.  Eode 
through  a  woody  and  pleasant  tract  of  ground  to  Sand- 
beck  Park  (Earl  of  Scarborough's)  through  which  I 
passed,  having  a  full  view  of  the  house,  an  elegant 
stone  structure,  and  proceeded  to  Eoche  Abbey,  the  last 
beautiful  scene  I  shall  visit.  It  stands  in  the  centre  of 
three  valleys.  One  is  wide,  floated  with  a  lake  and 
finally  terminated  by  Laughton  spire.  The  others  are 
close  and  woody,  and  meet  each  other  in  the  same  direc- 
tion, being  enlivened  by  a  small  river  that  forms  frequent 
cascades.  One  of  these  last  is  finely  hung  round  with 
high  red  rocks  that  are  very  beautiful,  and  are  fringed 
with  wood.  But  a  small  part  of  the  abbey  remains,  and 
it  is  perfectly  regular,  being  the  east  end.  The  parts 
are  two  and  are  detached,  but  are  finely  connected  with 
trees.  Behind  is  a  building  that  was  probably  the 
abbot's  apartment.  This  ruin  afforded  much  employ- 
ment to  my  glass.  I  spent  an  hour  and  a  half  there 
and  left  it  with  great  regret.  Had  a  charming  ride 
through  many  rural  scenes  to  Worksop.  The  moon 
shone  and  amused  me  with  its  shiftings. 

^August  2.  —  Eode  to  Worksop  Manor  and  Welbeck 
Park  (Dukes  of  Norfolk  and  Portland)  —  neither  of  them 
very  beautiful,  the  first  the  best.  Breakfasted  at  Mans- 
field, a  small,  well-built  town,  and  heard  Mr.  Catloe 
at  Meeting,  an  ingenious  young  man  and  a  pleasant 
speaker.  The  Unwins  were  there,  and  it  was  a  funeral 
sermon  for  Mrs.  Hey  wood  of  Nottingham,  their  rela- 
tion. The  road  to  Nottingham  lies  through  Nottingham 
Forest,  in  a  deep  sand,  with  but  few  trees.  Here  and 
there  we  have  a  distant  catch  of  the  country  on  each 
side,  the  ground  at  Eed  Hill  making  rather  a  pleasant 
dip  into  the  village  of  that  name,  and  Nottingham  in 
its  first  appearance  is  grand.  The  moon  was  up.  A  hot 
day. 


96  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

'  August  3.  —  Had  a  pleasant  view  from  the  castle,  and 
set  off  from  thence  in  the  Leeds  mail  to  Loughborough, 
Leicester,  Northampton,  and  Newport  Pagnel,  —  the 
greater  part  of  the  way  in  the  guard's  seat.  From 
thence  proceeded  on  the  4th  in  post-chaises  to  town  with 
a  Manchester  gentleman.' 

This  Scottish  journey,  to  which  Eogers  looked  back 
with  interest  all  his  life,  left  one  source  of  regret  behind 
it.  It  enabled  him  to  be  introduced  to  some  of  the  most 
eminent  persons  in  the  Scottish  capital ;  but  he  missed 
the  most  interesting  of  all  in  failing  to  visit  Burns.  The 
fame  of  the  great  peasant  poet  of  Scotland  had  not  then 
fully  reached  the  ears  of  literary  men  in  the  south, 
though  Burns  himself  had  in  August,  1787,  addressed  to 
Dr.  Moore  that  striking  biographical  letter  which  is  still 
the  best  extant  account  of  his  early  days.  Burns  had 
visited  Edinburgh  in  the  autumn  of  1786,  where  his 
coming  had  been  prepared  for  by  Henry  Mackenzie  in  a 
paper  in  *  The  Lounger,' — a  short-lived  literary  journal  of 
which  Mackenzie  was  the  editor.  Burns  had  again  vis- 
ited the  capital  in  the  winter  of  1787-  88,  when  he  had 
published  the  first  Edinburgh  edition  of  his  poems.  He 
was  more  fortunate  than  some  other  eminent  writers, 
for  he  had  received  from  his  bookseller,  Creech,  nearly 
five  hundred  pounds,  and  had  taken  a  farm  at  Ellisland, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Kith,  six  miles  above  Dumfries,  and 
settled  down  to  the  business  of  farming.  Here  Rogers 
might  have  found  him  in  July,  1789,  *at  times  saun- 
tering by  the  delightful  wanderings  of  the  Nith,'  as  he 
says  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  M'Auley,  ^  praying  for  seasonable 
weather  or  holding  an  intrigue  with  the  Muses, —  the  only 
gypsies  with  whom  I  have  now  any  intercourse.'  It  was 
a  bright  interval  in  the  poet's  life,  and  Rogers  might 
have  preserved  for  us  a  picture  of  him  in  his  fields,  or 
at  home  with  his  *  wife  and  twa  wee  laddies,'  who,  as 


FAILS  TO  SEE  ROBERT  BURNS.  97 

he  sang,  '  maun  hae  brose  and  brats  o'  duddies/  and  who 
had  made  him  resolve  that  — 

*  To  make  a  happy  fireside  clime 

To  weans  and  wife, 
That 's  the  true  pathos  and  sublime 
Of  human  life.* 

Burns,  as  we  know  from  one  of  his  letters  to  Mrs.  Dun- 
lop,  had  just  been  *  very  busy  with  "  Zeluco," '  the  '  most 
sterling  performance,'  as  he  calls  it,  of  his  friend  and 
Kogers's  friend.  Dr.  Moore.  He  tells  Mrs.  Dunlop  that 
he  had  been  revolving  in  his  mind  some  criticisms  on 
novel-writing,  which  he  found  to  be  a  depth  beyond  his 
research,  and  a  year  later  he  writes  to  Dr.  Moore :  *  I  have 
gravely  planned  a  comparative  view  of  you.  Fielding, 
Eichardson,  and  Smollett,  in  your  different  qualities  and 
merits  as  novel-writers.'  This  comparative  view  is  only 
briefly  hinted  in  a  later  letter  to  the  author  of  '  Zeluco,' 
but  his  admiration  for  Moore's  writings  suggests  a  topic 
on  which  Rogers  and  he  might  have  talked ;  and  a  most 
interesting  conversation  might  have  been  added  to  the 
pleasant  record  of  Rogers's  Scottish  visit.  The  oppor- 
tunity thus  lost  never  came  again.  Rogers  did  not  re- 
visit Scotland  till  1803,  when  Burns  had  been  dead  seven 
years. 

This  first  journey  to  Scotland  was  well-timed  in  other 
respects.  Sixty  years  later,  when  the  economical  doc- 
trines of  Adam  Smith  had  been  established  in  Free  Trade 
legislation,  it  was  a  satisfaction  to  Rogers  that  he  had 
seen  the  author  of  ^  The  Wealth  of  Nations.'  Mr.  Dyce  ^ 
records  a  story  of  him  which  is  not  in  Rogers's  Diary. 
'Once  in  the  course  of  conversation  I  happened,'  said 
Rogers,  'to  remark  of  some  writer  that  he  was  rather 
superficial,  a  Voltaire.'  '  Sir,'  cried  Adam  Smith,  strik- 
ing the  table  with  his  hand,  *  there  has  been  but  one  Vol- 

1  Table  Talk,  p.  44. 

7 


# 


98  EAKLY  LIFE   OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

taire.'  Adam  Smith  died  on  the  17th  of  July,  1790,  not 
quite  a  year  after  Rogers's  interviews  with  him.  Robert- 
son lived  three  years  longer.  When  Rogers  breakfasted 
with  him,  and  afterwards  heard  him  preach,  his  '  History 
of  Scotland'  had  been  published  thirty ^ years,  and  he 
had  been  for  as  long  a  period  one  of  the  chief  figures 
in  the  Scottish  capital.  Rogers  always  remembered  the 
kindness  with  which  the  great  historian  had  welcomed 
him,  and  told  how  he  had  taken  down  a  map  of  Scotland, 
spread  it  on  the  floor,  and,  kneeling  down  upon  it,  had 
traced  the  route  to  be  followed  in  the  Highland  tour  on 
which  Rogers  was  setting  out.  Robertson  died  in  1793. 
Henry  Mackenzie,  with  whom  a  long  friendship  was  be- 
gun on  this  meeting  in  Edinburgh,  was  then  in  middle 
age.  He  was  born  in  Edinburgh,  in  August,  1745,  on 
the  very  day  on  which  Prince  Charles  Edward  landed 
in  Scotland.  He  had  been  in  London  in  1765,  to  study 
the  modes  of  English  Exchequer  practice,  as  Sir  Walter 
Scott  tells  us  in  his  pleasant  account  of  Mackenzie,  in 
the  '  Lives  of  the  Kovelists.'  He  had  sketched  the  out- 
lines of  his  principal  work,  '  The  Man  of  Feeling,'  during 
his  residence  in  London,  but  had  not  finished  and 
published  it  till  1771.  It  was  anonymous,  but  it  at  once 
became  the  most  popular  novel  of  its  time.  Like  George 
Eliot's  '  Adam  Bede,'  it  was  the  subject  of  a  false  claim. 
A  man  named  Eccles  transcribed  the  whole,  made  correc- 
tions, blottings,  and  interlineations  in  the  manuscript 
thus  produced,  and  pertinaciously  declared  himself  to  be 
the  author  of  the  book.  Mackenzie  was  thus  compelled 
to  own  and  claim  his  offspring.  His  ^  Man  of  the 
World '  is  regarded  by  Scott  as  a  second  part  of  *  The 
Man  of  Feeling,*  while  ^  Julia  de  Roubign^'  was  written, 
Scott  says,  in  some  degree  as  a  counterpart  to  the  earlier 
work.  Rogers  had  read  and  admired  this  pathetic  story, 
and  went  to  Edinburgh  full  of  desire  to  see  its  author, 
who  was  then  one  of  the  most  distinguished  persons  in 


HIS  FRIENDSHIP  WITH  MACKENZIE.  99 

the  literary  society  of  the  Scottish  capital.  Rogers's 
feeling  with  respect  to  Mackenzie  at  this  time  was  that 
with  which  a  young  writer  regards  an  author  of  estab- 
lished fame.  He  first  saw  him  at  Adam  Smith's  dinner- 
table,  and  remarks  in  his  diary  on  his  soft  and  pleasing 
manners.  Mackenzie  was  an  admirable  talker.  Jusc 
thirty  years  after  Eogers  had  first  met  him,  Mr.  Ticknor, 
the  author  of  the  'History  of  Spanish  Literature,'  re- 
cords in  his  diary  that  he  had  breakfasted  one  morning 
with  Mackenzie  at  Lady  Cumming's.  '  He  is  now  old,' 
says  Ticknor,  '  but  a  thin,  active,  lively  little  gentleman, 
talking  fast  and  well  upon  all  common  subjects,  and 
without  the  smallest  indication  of  "The  Man  of  Feeling  " 
about  him.'  Eogers  and  he  corresponded  occasionally 
for  five-and-forty  years,  and  Mackenzie  more  than  once 
visited  Rogers  in  London.  Their  sympathy  with  each 
other  was  purely  literary,  for  Mackenzie  wrote  against 
the  French  Revolution  in  the  days  when  all  liberal 
spirits  in  England  were  still  hoping  everything  from  it. 
He  lived  on  through  all  the  changes  it  brought,  and  saw 
the  Monarchy  of  July  and  the  agitation  for  English 
Reform  before  he  died.  In  a  letter  announcing  his 
death,  in  January,  1831,  when  he  had  got  half-way 
through  his  eighty-sixth  year,  his  son,  Mr.  J.  H.  Mac- 
kenzie, expressed  gratitude  to  Rogers  'for  your  kind 
friendship  to  my  father,  which  added  so  sensibly  to  the 
enjoyment  of  his  declining  years.'  Mr.  Joshua  Henry 
Mackenzie  afterwards  became  a  judge  of  the  Edinburgh 
Court  of  Session,  and  his  daughter,  Miss  Mackenzie  of 
Moray  Place,  Edinburgh,  is  now  the  sole  descendant  of 
'  The  Man  of  Feeling.' 

After  his  memorable  stay  in  the  Scottish  capital 
Rogers  was  more  than  ever  set  on  the  attainment  of 
literary  distinction.  He  came  back  home  to  work  hard 
at  the  poem  by  which  he  was  to  gain  the  fame  he  felt  to 
be  his  right.     He  was  always  accumulating  material  for 


100  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

it,  putting  down  happy  thoughts  and  fortunate  expres- 
sions, and  polishing  a  line  or  a  couplet  into  the  perfect 
rhythm  which  distinguishes  the  poem.  It  was  the  chief 
subject  in  his  thoughts,  yet  it  is  never  mentioned  in  his 
letters  or  his  diary.  Perhaps  it  was  because  of  this  pre- 
occupation with  the  work  of  this  period  of  his  life  that 
there  is  no  record  of  1790,  except  one  which  he  mentions 
in  his  *  Eecollections.'  It  is  a  personal  reminiscence 
of  Burke.  On  the  10th  December,  1790,  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  delivered  his  fifteenth  and  last  discourse  at 
the  Eoyal  Academy.  There  was  a  crowded  audience, 
and  the  front  seats  were  reserved  for  persons  of  distinc- 
tion, among  whom  was  Burke.  Younger  and  less  known 
men,  of  whom  Eogers  was  then  one,  were  thus  kept  in 
the  back  of  the  room.  Suddenly  a  beam  under  the  floor 
gave  way  with  a  crash,  and  the  people  present  rushed  to 
the  door.  As  there  was  no  sign  of  further  disaster  the 
alarm  was  supposed  to  be  a  false  one,  and  the  audience 
struggled  back  to  their  places.  Some  of  the  younger  got 
to  the  front,  and  Eogers  was  among  them.  Sir  Joshua 
concluded  his  lecture  with  a  striking  passage  :  '  I  feel  a 
self-congratulation  in  knowing  myself  capable  of  such 
great  sensations  as  he  intended  to  excite.  I  reflect,  not 
without  vanity,  that  these  discourses  bear  testimony  of 
my  admiration  of  that  truly  divine  man,  and  I  should 
desire  that  the  last  words  I  should  pronounce  in  this 
Academy  and  from  this  place  should  be  the  name  of 
Michael  Angelo.'  He  came  down  from  the  desk  to 
mingle  with  the  audience,  and  Burke  went  up  to  him, 
and  taking  him  by  the  hand  repeated  Milton's  lines :  — 

*  The  Angel  ended,  and  in  Adam's  ear 
So  charming  left  his  voice  that  he  awhile 
Thought  him  still  speaking,  still  stood  fix'd  to  hear.* 

*  I  was  there,'  writes  Eogers,  '  and  heard  it.' 


CHAPTEE  V. 

English  feeling  about  France  in  1789  and  1790.  — Wordsworth,  Cole- 
ridge, Adams.  —  Diary  in  Revolutionary  Paris.  —  Visits  to  La- 
fayette, De  Chatelet,  De  Liancourt,  the  Due  de  Rochefoucauld,  etc. 
—  National  Assembly,  Jacobin  Club.  —  The  Theatres.  —  The  King 
and  Queen.  —  The  Populace.  —  Journey  homewards  through  Bel- 
gium and  Flanders.  —  Dr.  John  Moore,  father  of  Sir  John  and  Sir 
Graham  Moore. 

While  Kogers  was  enjoying  the  literary  and  social  inter- 
course to  which  his  friends  had  introduced  him  in  the 
Scottish  capital,  events  which  greatly  influenced  the  life 
of  every  prominent  man  in  Europe  were  taking  place  in 
Paris.  The  destruction  of  the  Bastille  has  made  the 
14th  of  July,  1789,  a  dividing  line  in  history.  It  was 
the  first  great  victory  of  the  populace.  The  Bastille  was 
at  once  the  instrument  and  the  symbol  of  despotism,  and 
its  fall  announced  to  the  world  the  overthrow  of  the  an- 
cient authority  of  a  family  and  of  a  caste.  The  people 
of  England  rejoiced  in  the  victory  almost  as  much  as  the 
people  of  France.  It  was  regarded  by  English  Liberals 
as  the  formal  entry  of  France  on  the  career  of  constitu- 
tional government ;  as  the  proclamation  of  a  new  era,  in 
which  the  old  Whig  toast  of  '  Civil  and  religious  liberty 
all  the  world  over '  should  come  to  complete  realization. 
It  is  difficult  in  these  days  to  enter  very  fully  into  the 
feeling  of  that  already  distant  time.  It  is  only  by  recol- 
lecting how  completely  the  near  future  is  veiled  from  us, 
how  impossible  it  was  in  1790  and  1791  to  foresee  the 
deeds  of  1793  and  1794,  that  we  can  understand  the  en- 
thusiasm which  the  first  movements  of  the  Eevolution 


102.  .  EAKl.y.  LiFEvOF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

aroused  in  men  of  liberal  thought  and  training  in 
England  and  the  United  States.  They  beheld  in  1789 
and  1790  nothing  but  the  rosy  dawn ;  they  could  not 
foresee  the  storms  which  were  so  soon  to  obscure  it  and 
blot  the  sky.  Poets  and  philosophers,  politicians  and 
divines,  saw  in  the  earliest  movements  of  the  Eevolution 
the  power  and  the  potency  of  all  necessary  ameliorations 
in  the  lot  of  the  great  masses  of  mankind,  and  the  pledge 
of  the  quick  coming  of  the  better  time  in  which  Christen- 
dom, in  spite  of  all  disappointments,  has  passionately 
believed  and  still  passionately  believes.  Southey,  Cole- 
ridge and  Wordsworth,  Price,  Priestley  and  Mackintosh, 
Charles  Fox,  Charles  Grey,  Whitbread,  Francis,  Erskine, 
Sheridan,  Windham  and  Stanhope,  and  all  the  men  who, 
like  them,  had  been  laboring  in  the  popular  cause,  felt 
upon  their  faces  the  light  and  warmth  of  a  new  morning 
for  the  world.  Wordsworth,  looking  back  when  he  wrote 
'The  Prelude,^  said  of  those  days  of  illusive,  yet  not 
wholly  illusive,  hope,  — 

'Bliss  was  it  in  that  dawn  to  be  alive, 
But  to  be  young  was  very  heaven.' 

Coleridge,  writing  his  '  Ode  to  France '  in  1797,  just  after 
the  moment  of  worst  disenchantment,  sang  of  the  time 

*  When  France  in  wrath  her  giant  limbs  upreared, 
And,  with  an  oath  that  smote  air,  earth,  and  sea, 
Stamped  her  strong  foot  and  said  she  would  be  free.* 

Even  in  those  days  Coleridge  was  not  ashamed  to 
boast  of  'the  lofty  gratulation '  with  which  he  could  sing 
'unawed  among  a  slavish  band'  and  ^ bless  the  paeans 
of  delivered  France.'  All  these  men  saw  in  the  French 
Revolution  in  1790  what  Milton  had  seen  in  the  English 
Revolution  a  hundred  and  thirty  years  before,  —  *  a  noble 
and  puissant  nation  rousing  herself  like  a  strong  man 
after  sleep.'    Wordsworth  exactly  describes  the  almost 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.  103 

universal   feeling  at  the  time  of  his   own  first  visit  to 
France,  in  three  lines  of  ^  The  Prelude '  :  — 

*  .  .  .  Europe  at  that  time  was  filled  with  joy, 
France  standing  on  the  top  of  golden  hours, 
And  human  nature  seeming  born  again.' 

There  were,  however,  other  voices  even  then.  In  the 
autumn  of  1789,  John  Adams,  who  had  been  the  first 
Minister  of  the  United  States  at  the  English  Court,  and 
who  was  afterwards  the  second  President  of  the  American 
Eepublic,  expressed  the  opinion — •!  may  almost  say, 
littered  the  striking  prophecy  —  in  a  letter  to  Dr.  Price, 
that  nothing  good  could  be  expected  of  a  nation  of 
atheists,  and  that  the  probable  result  of  the  Eevolution 
would  be  the  destruction  of  a  million  of  human  lives.  A 
great  genius  of  our  own  land  —  a  man  who  united  in  his 
own  person  the  qualities  of  the  statesman,  the  philoso- 
pher, the  orator,  and  the  prophet  —  was  then  writing 
the  *  Reflections  on  the  French  Eevolution'  which  were 
published  in  the  following  year.  Burke,  however,  stood 
almost  alone  ;  and  when  in  April,  1791,  Mackintosh,  then 
a  young  and  unknown  man  of  six-and-twenty,  issued  his 
brilliant  '  Vindicise  Gallicse '  it  was  received  with  almost 
universal  gratitude  and  admiration  by  the  Whigs  and  the 
educated  middle  classes,  as  Paine's  *  Eights  of  Man '  was  >y 
welcomed  by  less  cultivated  readers.  Burke's  eloquent 
lamentations  over  the  disappearance  of  the  age  of  chiv- 
alry embodied  the  feeling  with  which  the  Conservative 
section  of  the  privileged  classes  regarded  the  Eevolution. 
They  saw  in  the  scattering  of  a  frightened  noblesse,  and 
the  limitation  of  the  arbitrary  powers  of  the  monarch, 
not  the  enfranchisement  of  a  people  whom  king  and 
aristocracy  had  utterly  impoverished  and  grossly  op- 
pressed, but  the  overthrow  of  institutions  based  on  priv- 
ilege, which  age  had  made  venerable  and  picturesque. 
Paine,  in  the  most  eloquent  passage  in  his  '  Eights  of  ^ 


104  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Man/  said  of  Burke's  pathetic  description  of  the  suffer- 
ings of  Marie  Antoinette,  that  Burke  pitied  the  plumage 
but  forgot  the  dying  bird.  He  and  his  friends  mourned 
over  the  troubles  of  the  ornamental  classes,  but  over- 
looked the  long  patience  of  the  people  on  whom  they 
preyed. 

The  great  bulk  of  the  English  Dissenters,  and  of  the 
Whig  aristocracy  whose  lead  they  gratefully  acknowl- 
edged, were  too  much  occupied  with  the  progressive 
establishment  of  Liberal  institutions  on  the  other  side 
of  the  Channel  to  think  much  of  the  cost  at  which  the 
enfranchisement  was  being  purchased.  On  the  4th  of 
November,  1789,  the  anniversary  dinner  of  the  *  Society 
for  Commemorating  the  English  Eevolution '  was  held 
at  the  London  Tavern,  with  Lord  Stanhope  in  the  chair. 
Many  of  Kogers's  friends  were  there,  and  Dr.  Price  — who 
earlier  in  the  day  had  preached  to  the  members  of  the 
Society,  in  the  meeting-house  in  the  Old  Jewry,  his  great 
discourse  ^  On  the  Love  of  Our  Country '  —  moved  a  con- 
gratulatory address  to  the  National  Assembly  of  France. 
This  address  congratulated  the  Assembly,  so  the  resolu- 
tion ran,  ^  on  the  revolution  in  that  country,  and  on  the 
prospect  it  gives  to  the  first  two  kingdoms  in  the  world 
of  a  common  participation  in  the  blessings  of  civil  and 
religious  liberty.'  The  Liberal  triumph  in  France  was 
to  lead  to  a  similar  Liberal  triumph  in  England,  and  the 
Whigs  —  who  were  the  Kadicals  of  the  time  —  hoped  to 
see,  in  the  words  of  Dr.  Price's  address,  '  a  general  refor- 
mation in  the  governments  of  Europe,  and  to  make  the 
world  free  and  happy.'  On  the  14th  of  July,  1790,  the 
first  anniversary  of  the  taking  of  the  Bastille,  there  was 
a  dinner  at  the  Crown  and  Anchor,  at  which  there  is 
reason  to  believe  that  Kogers  was  present.  Dr.  Price 
was  one  of  the  stewards  of  the  dinner,  and  made  the 
speech  which,  together  with  his  sermon  in  the  Old  Jewry 
on  the  4th  of  November,  became  the  subject  of  some  of 


HE   GOES   TO  PARIS  IN  1791.  105 

Burke's  '  Eeflections/  This  speech,  read  in  the  light  of 
modern  political  ideas,  suggests  the  wonder  that  any- 
human  being  could  have  felt  anything  but  the  fullest 
and  completest  sympathy  with  its  patriotic  sentiment 
and  peaceful  tone,  or  anything  but  appreciation  for  the 
severe  moderation  of  its  language.  It  suggested  an 
alliance  between  the  first  two  kingdoms  of  the  world,  for 
promoting  peace  on  earth  and  good-will  to  men.  It  was 
eminently  worthy  to  be,  as  it  was,  the  last  public  testi- 
mony on  behalf  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  borne  by 
one  of  the  gentlest  and  purest  spirits  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury produced.  Dr.  Price  died  before  the  second  anni- 
versary came  round  and  brought  with  it  the  brutal  attack 
of  the  Birmingham  mob  on  Dr.  Priestley's  house  and 
chapel,  and  before  the  angry  clouds  had  risen  which  too 
soon  turned  the  golden  hours  to  weeping.  His  name, 
however,  was  known  and  honored  in  France,  and  he  had 
an  extensive  correspondence  with  some  of  the  best  men 
of  the  early  days  of  the  Revolution.  Dr.  Price  never 
visited  France  himself,  but  his  name  was  a  passport  to 
the  best  society  of  revolutionary  Paris,  and  to  be  known 
as  his  friend  was  to  be  sure  of  a  welcome  in  circles 
where  in  1790  and  1791  the  chiefs  of  the  movement  were 
to  be  met. 

As  Dr.  Price's  friend,  and  with  letters  from  him  and 
many  other  well-known  Whigs  and  sympathizers  with  the 
Revolution,  Rogers  went  over  to  Paris  in  the  beginning 
of  1791  to  see  the  chief  scenes  and  persons  in  the  revolu- 
tionary drama.  It  had  not  yet  become  a  tragedy ;  it  was 
not  yet  even  apparently  tending  to  tragic  results.  The 
moment  was  one  at  which  the  hope  and  anticipation 
raised  in  the  previous  summer  had  not  yet  died  away. 
The  king  and  the  National  Assembly  had  come  to  an 
understanding.  He  had  accepted  the  new  constitution, 
and  though  he  was  almost  a  prisoner  or  a  hostage  in  the 
Tuileries,  there  were  still  reasons  for  hoping  that  the 


106  EARLY  LIFE  OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Revolution  might  complete  its  course  within  the  limits 
of  constitutional  forms.  There  were,  indeed,  signs  of  a 
different  issue,  but  they  were  not  discernible  from  afar. 
The  king  was  already  ceasing  to  desire  final  reconcilia- 
tion with  the  Revolution  and  its  leaders.  Mirabeau, 
elected  President  of  the  Assembly  while  Rogers  was  in 
Paris,  was  within  three  months  of  the  close  of  his  career, 
and  Lafayette  was  in  retirement.  It  was  most  signifi- 
cant that  when,  on  the  28th  of  January,  Rogers  and  Bod- 
dington  expressed  to  Lafayette  their  pleasure  at  finding 
everything  so  quiet,  Lafayette  made  no  reply,  and  that 
on  the  same  evening  Mr.  Keay,  their  English  friend  in 
Paris,  told  them  that  the  people  were  barbarous,  and 
described  how  a  few  days  before,  when  a  mob  was  hurry- 
ing away  a  man  they  suspected  to  be  a  spy,  a  porkman 
rushed  from  his  shop  and  ran  a  knife  into  his  head. 
There  was  the  germ  of  all  the  coming  excesses  in  this 
event.  But  it  was  not  likely  that  foreigners  would  dis- 
cern the  signs  that  were  hidden  from  Frenchmen  them- 
selves. More  than  two  months  after  Rogers's  return  from 
Paris,  Fox  spoke  of  the  new  constitution  as  the  most 
glorious  fabric  ever  raised  by  human  ingenuity  since  the 
creation  of  man.  So  it  seemed,  regarded  from  afar. 
Like  Mulciber's  ^  fabric  huge '  of  Pandemonium  in  ^  Para- 
dise Lost,'  it  — 

*  Rose  like  an  exhalation  with  the  sound 
Of  dulcet  symphonies  and  voices  sweet ;  * 

and  just  at  this  moment  — 

*  The  ascending  pile 
Stood  fixed  her  stately  height.' 

But  less  than  six  months  after  Rogers  saw  Lafayette,  and 
within  ten  weeks  of  the  time  at  which  Fox  spoke,  the 
king  fled  from  Paris,  and  the  prospect  of  transforming 


JOURNEY  TO  PARIS.  107 

France  by  peaceful  change  into  a  constitutional  kingdom 
passed  away  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision. 

Eogers  went  to  Paris,  full  of  the  feeling  with  which  all 
English  Liberals  regarded  the  Kevolution,  in  January, 
1791.  He  tells  us,  in  the  first  page  of  his  diary,  that  he 
regarded  Calais  as  the  shore  which  might  '  soon,  even  to 
Englishmen,  prove  a  welcome  asylum/  He  had  as  his 
companion  Samuel  Boddington,  afterwards  the  partner 
in  business  of  Richard  Sharp.^  The  diary  is  a  rough 
one.  It  was  written  on  the  evenings  of  his  journey,  and 
while  each  day's  experiences  and  events  were  fresh  in 
his  recollection,  and  he  probably  intended  to  rewrite  it 
afterwards.  But  it  remains  as  it  was  written,  and  needs 
no  other  introduction  than  the  reminder  to  the  reader 
that  Rogers  was  even  more  interested  in  the  literary  and 
social  aspects  of  France  than  in  its  political  state. 

'  January  18,  1791.  —  The  hop-grounds  and  cherry- 
orchards  of  Kent  were  still  pleasing  amidst  the  drear- 
iness of  winter,  and  we  had  several  fine  catches  of  the 
Thames  and  its  shipping.  At  Canterbury  we  snatched 
a  passing  view  of  the  cathedral ;  and  as  we  approached 
Dover  the  castle  rose  in  all  its  majesty,  and  wore  a  chaste 
gray  tint  from  the  reflection  of  a  storm  that  brooded 
over  it. 

*  20^/i.  —  The  wind  being  contrary  we  made  a  pilgrim- 
age to  the  top  of  Shakspeare's  cliff,  which  towers  to  a 
stupendous  height  from  the  edge  of  the  ocean,  and  com- 
mands the  town  of  Dover,  shut  in  by  mountains  and  only 
open  to  the  sea.  The  French  coast  was  not  visible,  bat 
the  sea  was  fresh  and  beautiful  and  spotted  with  white 

1  The  name  of  the  firm  was  Boddington,  Sharp,  and  Phillips. 
Samuel  Boddington's  only  child,  Grace  Boddington,  married  Sir 
Henry  Webster,  then  a  colonel  in  the  army.  Sir  Henry  Webster  was 
the  second  son  of  Lady  Holland  and  of  her  first  husband.  Sir  Godfrey 
Webster,  from  whom  she  was  divorced  by  Act  of  Parliament. 


108  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

sails,  and  the  air  was  so  mild  and  elastic  that  it  was  a 
luxury  to  breathe  it.  In  the  evening  walked  on  the  pier. 
The  brightness  of  the  moonshine  on  the  cliffs  and  the 
water,  the  silver  line  of  the  horizon,  and  the  old  sailors 
standing  in  groups  on  the  beach,  and  conversing  in  their 
long  blue  cloaks  on  the  uncertainty  of  the  weather, 
formed  an  amusing  scene. 

*  21st.  —  Set  sail  for  Calais  with  a  clear  sky  and  calm 
sunshine,  and  in  two  hours  and  forty  minutes  gained 
that  shore  which  may  soon,  even  to  Englishmen,  prove 
a  welcome  asylum.  As  we  landed,  the  national  troops 
were  parading  in  their  white  uniform,  and  several  ^ens 
comme  il  faut  of  both  sexes  were  walking  on  the  pier, 
with  large  fox  muffs.  We  were  conducted  across  a 
handsome  square,  built  of  white  brick,  and  ornamented 
with  some  good  public  buildings,  the  great  church,  the 
Hotel  de  Ville,  etc.,  to  the  Silver  Lion,  where  we  dined 
on  soupe,  houilli  and  perdrix,  and  received  a  visit  from 
Father  Martin,  a  Capuchin  friar,  who  introduced  himself 
most  cautiously  to  solicit  alms  for  his  convent.  Pro- 
ceeded afterwards  to  Boulogne,  along  a  paved  road 
which  ran  in  a  direct  line  through  a  country  well  cul- 
tivated and  uneven,  and  enlivened  with  many  villages 
scattered  over  it,  but  in  some  parts  marshy  and  destitute 
of  trees.  Our  chaise  was  drawn  by  three  horses  abreast, 
and  the  driver,  a  brisk  pleasant  fellow,  wore  a  large 
cocked  hat  and  jack-boots,  with  deep  ruffles,  gilt  earrings, 
and  an  enormous  qiceue.  We  afterwards  changed  horses 
by  the  light  of  a  blacksmith's  shop,  and  in  our  own  way 
met  the  Calais  stage,  a  huge  monster,  not  much  less  than 
Noah's  Ark.  It  was  heavily  laden  with  trunks  and  pas- 
sengers, and,  though  drawn  by  seven  horses,  rumbled 
along  at  the  rate  of  two  miles  an  hour.  Entered  Bou- 
logne by  moonlight  through  a  winding  avenue  of  trees, 
and  after  having  ordered  o\xt  petit  souper  at  La  Vignette, 
we  repaired  to  the  theatre,  a  small  oblong  building  with 


JOURNEY  TO  PARIS.  109 

a  circular  termination,  the  shape  of  every  French  theatre. 
It  was  very  gayly  painted,  but  miserably  lighted,  and  it 
smelt  of  pomatum  like  a  barber's  shop.  In  the  boxes 
were  a  few  ahhes  and  officers  who  left  their  seats  between 
the  acts  and  conversed  familiarly  with  the  actors  on  the 
stage  behind  the  curtain.  The  comedy  was  admirably 
acted,  and  was  often  interrupted  by  the  most  rapturous 
bursts  of  applause.  The  entertainment  began  and  con- 
cluded with  a  pas  de  seul. 

^January  22.  —  The  market-place  at  Montreuil  was 
crowded  as  we  passed  through  it.  It  was  a  busy  scene, 
and  exactly  resembled  a  fair  in  a  Flemish  picture.  The 
women  wore  a  close  cap,  with  no  hat ;  and  their  muffs 
and  powdered  hair  had  a  singular  effect  among  baskets 
of  eggs  and  stalls  of  gingerbread.  The  weather  was  now 
so  fine  —  so  superb,  to  speak  the  language  of  the  country 
—  that  we  could  here  contain  ourselves  no  longer,  and, 
leaving  the  chaise  to  follow  us  to  the  next  poste  we 
mounted  our  hidets  and  cantered  away  in  jack-boots,  as 
happy  and  as  perpendicular  as  La  Fleur  himself.  Our 
outset  was,  however,  such  as  to  have  discouraged  less 
enterprising  spirits,  for  when  we  had  accoutred  ourselves 
for  the  ride,  we  could  neither  vault  into  the  saddle  nor 
even  lift  our  feet  into  the  stirrup,  but  tottered  along 
with  the  hostler's  assistance  amidst  the  titterings  of  the 
landlady  and  her  maids  in  the  inn-yard.  When  we  had 
passed  through  Abbeville  —  a  large  town  in  an  extensive 
valley,  and  brimful  of  churches  and  convents,  priests  and 
beggars  —  we  gradually  ascended  the  heights  of  Picardy, 
whence  we  saw  the  Somme  winding  through  green  mead- 
ows on  the  left.  The  moon  was  rising  when  we  entered 
Amiens  through  a  deep  gateway ;  the  convent  bells  were 
tinkling,  and  the  streets  were  lighted  by  lanterns  sus- 
pended in  the  middle  by  a  rope.  Alighted  at  the  Silver 
Lion,  and  were  charmed  by  the  naivete  and  simplicity 
of  the  innkeeper's  daughter,  Flora,  a  sweet  little  girl 


110  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

about  ten  years  old.  "  Aimez-vous  les  Anglais  ?  "  said  I. 
"  J'aime  tout  le  monde  !  "  "  Avez-vous  des  soeurs  ? '' 
"  Oui,  mais  elles  out  des  maris."  "Et  vous  serez  mariee 
de  bonne  heure  ?  "    "  Oh  qu'oui,  Monsieur." 

*  January  23.  —  When  I  descended  into  the  parlor  to 
breakfast  I  was  surprised  to  find  there  a  little  fellow 
about  fourteen  years  old,  in  a  very  fine  coat,  with 
powdered  hair  and  long  queue.  He  advanced  towards 
me  with  his  hands  in  an  immense  muff  and  with  a  pro- 
fusion of  bows  and  fine  compliments.  He  proved  to  be 
Flora's  brother,  and  had  been  deputed  by  his  mother  to 
conduct  us  over  the  town.  Under  his  guidance,  there- 
fore, we  sallied  forth  to  the  Cathedral,  a  most  magnifi- 
cent piece  of  Gothic.  The  clergy  had  not  yet  taken  the 
national  oath,  the  gates  that  led  to  the  high  altar  were 
sealed,  and  Mass  was  performed  in  the  aisle.  "  Oii  sont 
les  moines  ?  "  said  I,  as  we  walked  through  the  streets. 
"  Hs  sont  dans  leur  convent  a  pleurer,  Monsieur."  The 
ramparts  form  an  amusing  promenade  round  the  town. 
The  Somme  meanders  on  one  side  with  convents  and 
manufactories  on  its  banks ;  and  on  the  other  rise  the 
cathedral  with  its  taper  spire,  of  rich  filagree  work,  and 
a  multitude  of  religious  houses  and  hotels  of  the  noblesse  ; 
among  these  are  small  flower-gardens,  each  intersected 
with  espaliers  and  gravel  walks,  and  furnished  with  a 
marble  fountain  and  an  alcove  of  green  trellis-work.  As 
we  left  Amiens  we  saw  a  fiddler  perched  up  in  the  corner 
of  a  street  playing  and  singing,  while  he  exhibited  to  a 
crowded  audience  a  scroll  of  pictures  daubed  in  different 
compartments.  Proceeded  through  pleasant  fields  and 
woods  till  the  country  made  a  grand  fall,  and  presented 
in  front  a  very  extensive  plain,  fading  away  into  the 
blue  and  purple  tints  of  distance.  At  Breteuil  we 
passed  a  convent  of  Benedictines,  with  a  very  long  and 
elegant  white  front.  It  was  a  modern  structure  with 
sash  windows,  the  antique  tower  of  its  chapel  rose  beside 


JOURNEY  TO   PARIS.  Ill 

it,  and  it  formed  a  very  striking  object  for  many  miles. 
At  the  door  of  an  auberge,  on  a  little  hill,  we  were  soon 
afterwards  stopped  by  the  entreaties  of  the  auberf/iste, 
who  asked  permission  for  an  elderly  well-dressed  man  to 
ride  a  few  leagues  behind  the  chaise.  "  C'est  mon  ami, 
c'est  un  officier.  Messieurs.''  These  arguments  would 
have  been  irresistible,  if  any  had  been  necessary,  and 
he  seated  himself  behind.  We  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
magnificent  chateau  of  the  Due  de  Fitz-James,  with  a 
lawn  opening  in  front,  and  woods  intersected  with 
avenues  rising  behind  it. 

*  Neither  the  rattling  of  the  carriage-wheels  on  the 
pavi,  nor  the  flats  and  sharps  of  the  post-boy's  whip, 
could  drown  the  brisk  notes  of  a  fiddle  as  we  entered  the 
village  of  Clermont.  It  was  a  dance  of  the  peasants, 
and  we  immediately  went  to  it,  and  were  shown  into  a 
large  room,  with  a  floor  of  red  tile  and  a  raftered  roof. 
There  were  three  sets  of  cotillons,  here  called  contre- 
danse,  and  never  had  we  any  idea  of  dancing  before,  — 
such  activity,  so  much  soul  in  all  their  movements.  We 
were  immediately  pressed  to  dance.  "Ne  voulez-vous 
pas  danser.  Messieurs  ? "  resounded  from  all  sides.  It 
was  an  invitation  not  to  be  resisted;  and  we  danced 
"  Les  Plaisirs  des  Loix "  to  the  tune  of  "  Ca  ira."  The 
Yevy  fi lie  de  chambre  who  had  conducted  us  from  the  inn 
was  already  engaged  in  another  set.  Every  man  paid 
three  liards  for  two  dances,  and  saluted  his  partner 
when  they  were  finished.  On  the  hill  was  a  dance  of 
the  bourgeois,  tres  splendide,  but  we  chose  the  dance  of 
the  peasants.  The  band  consisted  of  two  violins  ;  and 
some  stools  elevated  on  a  table  against  the  wall  formed 
the  orchestra.  Over  the  door  was  this  inscription :  "  Ho- 
nore,  Perruquier,  tient  salle  de  danse  a  la  nation." 
When  I  saw  the  innocent  gayety  of  the  villagers  of  Cler- 
mont, my  heart  bled  to  think  of  the  oppressions  which 
so  amiable  and  generous  a  people  had  so  long  endured. 


112  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Proceeded  through  an  uneven  country,  with  woods  and 
vineyards  on  either  hand,  till  we  entered  a  long  avenue 
that  led  to  Chantilly,  the  seat  of  the  Prince  of  Conde. 
Saw  the  house,  the  gardens,  the  stables,  etc.,  altogether 
a  most  superb  monument  of  bad  taste.  The  gate  of  the 
stables  is,  however,  a  striking  exception.  The  armor 
of  Henri  IV.  and  of  the  great  Conde  are  here  preserved 
with  veneration.  Continued  through  the  woods  of  Chan- 
tilly, and  passed  through  several  villages.  The  country 
soon  made  another  fall,  and  of  equal  grandeur  with 
the  former.  As  we  changed  horses .  at  St.  Denis,  one 
of  them  was  restive  and  broke  the  traces.  "  Ha,  ha ! 
Monsieur  I'abbe  Maury,"  said  a  boy  as  he  passed  by,  "  ne 
voulez-vous  pas  rester  tranquille  ? "  Over  the  arch  of 
every  nobleman's  gateway  the  coat  of  arms  was  erased, 
and  printed  advertisements  of  the  sale  of  the  Church 
lands  were  fixed  on  every  wall.  As  we  approached  Paris 
we  saw  an  infinite  number  of  avenues  leading  from  it 
in  all  directions,  like  the  radii  of  a  circle.  Passed  at 
the  foot  of  Montmartre,  a  hill  of  granite  covered  with 
windmills. 

'  The  clumsy  coaches  of  all  shapes  that  rumble  along 
without  springs;  the  ladies  hurrying  out  of  their  way 
with  rouged  cheeks  and  without  hats;  the  gentlemen 
parading  with  their  national  cockades,  immense  muffs, 
and  copper  buckles ;  and  the  very  beggars  accosting  us 
with  a  powdered  head,  a  muff,  and  a  cockade,  —  every- 
thing was  new  to  an  Englishman ;  but  who  could  attend 
a  moment  to  such  minutice  when  so  many  thousands  were 
beating  as  it  were  with  one  pulse  in  the  cause  of  liberty 
and  their  countr}',  and  crowding  every  coffee-house  and 
public  walk  to  congratulate  each  other  on  an  event  so 
favorable  in  its  consequences  to  the  best  interests  of 
mankind  ? 

^In  the  evening  walked  under  the  piazzas  of  the 
Palais    Royal,    a  very   elegant   square,    full   of   shops 


PARIS  m  1791.  113 

and  coffee-houses,  glittering  with  lights  and  crowded 
with  belles  and  beaux  who  were  taking  their  evening 
promenade. 

^  January  26.  —  Breakfasted  in  a  coffee-house,  where  I 
could  have  passed  hours  in  contemplating  the  various 
figures  that  were  sipping  their  coffee  and  capillaire 
around  me,  and  dined  at  the  Cafe  des  Quatre  Nations, 
where  the  scene  was  so  diverting  and  the  dishes  were  all 
in  masquerade.  The  moment  we  entered,  one  of  the 
waiters  with  irresistible  grace  presented  us  with  a  printed 
bill  of  fare,  including  above  two  hundred  different  articles 
with  the  several  prices  affixed ;  from  fricassees,  fricarir 
deaus,  and  ragouts  down  to  humble  hifteck,  so  changed  in 
name  and  nature  that  we  could  with  difficulty  recognize 
our  old  acquaintance.  We  afterwards  repaired  to  the 
cirque  in  the  middle  of  the  Palais  Eoyal,  an  elegant 
room,  300  feet  by  50,  lighted  by  a  long  skylight  and 
designed  for  every  species  of  entertainment.  "  Ce  n'est 
pas  un  cirque,"  said  I  to  a  carpenter  at  work  there. 
"C'est  un  cirque  Frangais,"  said  he,  archly.  Here  we 
saw  a  faro-table  surrounded  by  adventurers,  and  were 
soon  called  away  from  remarking  their  anxious  and 
fluctuating  spirits  to  view  an  assault  between  La  Motte, 
a  musician  in  the  king's  band,  and  several  other 
fencers. 

^January  ^  27.  —  "  C'est  une  belle  saison,"  said  I  to  my 
hairdresser  this  morning.  "  C'est  superbe.  Monsieur,"  said 
he.  Sallied  forth  with  a  smart  laquais  de  place,  Lef evre, 
in  a  chariot  driven  by  a  coachman  whose  scarlet  cloak 
formed  a  fine  front  screen  ;  over  Pont  Keuf,  by  the  statue 
of  Henri  IV.,  to  the  Abbe  Grenet,^  a  professor  in  the 
College  of  Richelieu,  —  a  sensible,  pleasant  man,  but  an 
aristocrat ;  disapproved  of  the  plan  of  juries  now  before 

1  Query  Jan.  26. 

2  The  Abbe  Grenet  was  a  celebrated  writer  on  geography  and  pro- 
fessor of  that  science.    He  disappeared  during  the  Revolution. 

8 


114  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

the  National  Assembly,  and  said  it  was  unsuitable  to  the 
genius  of  the  nation.  Proceeded  afterwards  to  Monsieur 
Petrie,  member  of  the  Assembly  from  Tobago,  a  gentle- 
man and  a  man  of  sense.  He  said  he  feared  the  Assembly 
had  too  many  irons  in  the  fire,  and  that  the  conduct  of  the 
clergy  at  Amiens  had  drawn  a  motion  from  Barnave  to 
petition  the  king  to  appoint  new  bishops.  In  the  even- 
ing went  to  the  theatre  of  the  Grands  Danseurs  du  Eoi 
on  the  Boulevards,  full  of  the  canaille.  The  first  piece 
was  the  conduct  of  the  Spaniards  in  Mexico,  and  when 
the  priests  were  disgraced  the  laughter  and  shouts  of  the 
audience  were  very  pointed.  Went  afterwards  to  the 
cirque,  and  saw  some  cotillons  danced  by  the  dames  du 
Falais  Royal  in  a  very  capital  style. 

^  January  27.  —  M.  I'abbe  Grenet  breakfasted  with  us, 
and  told  us  that  the  mob  had  last  night  threatened  to 
burn  the  house  of  M.  de  Clermont-Tonnerre,^  and  were 
proceeding  to  the  lanterne  with  an  officer  of  the  police, 
but  were  prevented.  Said  Marmontel  ^  had  changed  his 
principles  and  disapproved  of  the  new  government ;  that 
the  Abbe  Kaynal  ^  was  an  enrage,  and  at  Marseilles ;  that 

1  M.  de  Clermont-Tonnerre  fell  a  victim  to  the  populace  in  the 
succeeding  August. 

2  The  author  of  Conies  Moraux  was  in  his  sixty-eighth  year.  He 
had  been  Secretary  of  the  Academy  from  DAlembert's  death  in  1783, 
and  on  the  suppression  of  the  Academies  in  1791  betook  himself  to  the 
writing  of  new  Contes  Moraux.     He  died  in  1799. 

8  The  Abbe  Raynal  was  at  that  time  the  most  celebrated  French 
historian  living.  In  December,  1790,  a  severe  criticism  on  the  doings  of 
the  Assembly  had  appeared,  entitled  '  Lettro  de  I'abbe  Raynal  h  TAssem- 
blee  Nationale.'  It  was  by  the  Comte  de  Guibert,  but  embodied  Ray- 
nal's  sentiments.  In  May,  1791,  he  wrote  a  letter  to  the  President  of 
the  Assembly,  which  was  read  at  one  of  its  sittings,  protesting  against 
its  proceedings  and  expressing  regret  that  the  writer  had  been  *  one  of 
those  who,  in  expressing  a  generous  indignation  against  arbitrary  power, 
had  perhaps  put  arms  into  the  hands  of  license  and  anarchy.'  He  did 
not  emigrate,  but  lived  in  retirement  through  the  Terror,  and  died  m 
Paris  in  1796,  in  his  eighty-third  year. 


MEN  OF  THE  REVOLUTION.  115 

the  Abbe  Maury  was  the  first  man  in  France,  and  M. 
Eabaut  ^  the  most  dangerous  ;  that  he  was  of  Kousseau's 
opinion  that  a  republican  form  of  government  suited 
small  states  only;  that  M.  d'Alembert,  the  great  mathe- 
matician, could  never  draw  a  right  angle  with  his  com- 
passes ;  that  M.  I'abbe  Maury  had  often  appeased  the 
cry  of  "  X  la  lauterne ! "  by  saying,  "  You  may  take  me 
there,  but  will  you  see  the  clearer  for  it  ?  "  ^  Sallied 
forth  afterwards  and  left  our  letters  and  cards  at  Lord 
Gower's,  the  Due  de  Rochefoucauld's,^  de  Liancourt's,* 
etc.  Called  on  M.  de  Keralio,^  printer  of  the  Mercure 
National;  saw  his   daughter,  a  very  pleasing,  sensible 


1  See  note  to  page  179. 

2  The  Abbe  Maury  was  celebrated  all  through  the  Revolution  for  his 
ready  wit.  '  I  am  going  to  shut  up  the  Abbe  Maury  in  a  vicious  circle,' 
said  Mirabeau  one  day  in  the  Assembly.  *  Then  you  are  going  to  em- 
brace me,'  said  the  Abbe,  to  the  great  orator's  confusion.  Hearing  that 
he  was  proscribed  he  fled,  but  was  brought  back.  On  retaking  his 
place  in  the  National  Assembly  he  said,  *  I  shall  perish  in  the  Revolu- 
tion or  get  a  Cardinal's  hat  in  fighting  it'  He  did  not  long  fight  the 
Revolution,  but  fled  again  when  the  Constituent  Assembly  was  dissolved, 
and  was  made  a  bishop  m  partibus  and  afterwards  a  cardinal.  He  died 
at  Rome  in  1817. 

8  The  Due  de  la  Rochefoucauld  was  one  of  the  early  victims  of  the 
Revolution.  He  was  stoned  to  death  at  Gisors  on  the  14th  of  Sep- 
tember, 1792,  as  he  was  on  his  way  to  take  the  waters  at  Forges.  His 
mother  and  his  wife  were  with  him. 

*  The  Due  de  Liancourt  is  the  man  who,  two  days  before  the  fall  of 
the  Bastille,  had  gone  to  Versailles  to  tell  the  king  of  the  state  of  Paris. 
'  It  is  a  revolt,'  said  the  astonished  Louis.  '  No,  sir,'  replied  the  Due 
de  Liancourt,  *  it  is  a  revolution.'  He  was  for  a  time  President  of  the 
National  Assembly.  Not  long  after  Rogers  wasat  his  house  he  fled  to 
England  and  took  refuge  with  Arthur  Young.  On  the  death  of  his 
cousin  he  took  the  title  of  La  Rochefoucauld. 

^  M.  de  Keralio,  who  had  translated  various  works  from  English, 
German,  and  Swedish,  had  translated  in  1789  Dr.  Price's  sermon  'On 
the  Love  of  our  Country.'  He  was  one  of  the  editors  of  the  Journal  des 
Savants  from  1785  till  its  suppression  in  1792.  He  died  at  Grosley  in 
December,  1793. 


116  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

woman.*  Called  at  Perregaux's,^  and  saw  one  of  .the 
partners,  asked  after  Mr.  Keay  and  heard  he  was  in 
England.  Dined  at  the  coffee-house,  and  saw  there  an 
Englishman  in  the  navy,  a  sceptic  in  religion,  and  in 
politics  an  aristocrat ;  went  afterwards  to  the  opera,  —  an 
ordinary  house,  full  of  the  best  company.  All  the  boxes 
let  except  two.  The  parterre  crowded,  and  the  people 
there  moved  like  ears  of  corn.  The  opera  "  Dido,"  Mal- 
lieux  the  first  woman.  Saw  afterwards  "Cupid  and 
Psyche,"  —  a  beautiful  ballet.  Lahore  and  Nivelon  won- 
derful dancers,  the  first  more  esteemed  here  than  Vestris, 
only  eighteen  years  old. 

'  January  28.  —  Called  on  Mr.  Keay,  who  was  out,  — 
Hotel  des  Etats  Unis,  Rue  des  Gaillons.  Called  on  M. 
Hottingue  and  M.  Rougemont,^  and  were  politely  received. 
Saw  the  Church  of  La  Roche ;  the  Italian  theatre,  with  a 
beautiful  Ionic  colonnade  in  front ;  and  the  Theatre  de 
Monsieur,  just  finished,  the  front  a  circular  colonnade. 

^In  the  afternoon  called  at  the  Marquis  de  Lafay- 
ette's, and  were  introduced  by  M.  de  Chatelet,*  through 
an  anteroom  where  some  officers  were  dining,  into  a  large 
room  where  he  sat  at  table  with  thirty  or  forty  officers. 
He  rose  to  receive  us.  We  then  passed  on  to  another 
chamber,  where  several  gentlemen  were  waiting.  He 
soon  entered  with  Madame  de  Lafayette,  —  a  pleasing, 

^  Mdlle.  de  Keralio  was  assisting  her  father  in  the  editorship  of  the 
Mcrcure  National,  ou  Journal  cC^tat  et  de  Citoyen,  and  soon  after 
Rogers's  visit  married  M.  Robert,  one  of  her  father's  colleagues.  Robert 
became  Danton's  secretary,  but  escaped  the  proscription  of  the  Dan- 
tonists.  Madame  Robert,  like  her  father,  was  a  voluminous  translator, 
obtaining  considerable  celebrity.     She  died  in  1821. 

2  The  banker. 

*  M.  Rougemont  was  a  merchant  to  whom  Rogers  had  received  an 
introduction. 

*  This  was  probably  the  Due  du  Chi^telet,  afterwards  one  of  the 
generals  in  the  army  of  the  Republic.  He  was  arrested  as  a  Girondist, 
and  poisoned  himself  in  prison. 


GENERAL  LAFAYETTE.  117 

lively  woman,  but  not  handsome,  who  told  us  that  we  did 
her  country  honor  to  visit  ib  when  they  were  but  in 
their  infancy ;  that  she  could  understand  English,  but 
was  afraid  to  talk  it.  Lafayette  then  came  up,  a  tall, 
handsome  man  about  35.^  He  inquired  after  Dr.  Price, 
and  asked  whether  he  had  any  intention  to  visit  Paris  ; 
said  that  most  people  could  speak  a  little  English  and 
understand  him.  We  expressed  pleasure  to  find  all 
things  so  tranquil ;  he  made  no  answer.  In  this  room 
was  a  picture  of  the  Bastille.  Invited  us  to  dine  with 
him  to-morrow,  and  said  he  dined  every  day  at  four  and 
should  always  be  happy  to  see  us.  Went  to  the  Theatre 
de  Monsieur  and  saw  an  Italian  comedy,  "  La  Pastorella," 
beautifully  lighted  in  the  centre  with  a  transparency  of 
Apollo  and  his  rays.  Came  home,  when  Mr.  Keay 
waited  upon  me  and  spent  two  hours  with  us.  Said  that 
Lafayette  had  nearly  ruined  his  fortune,  and  would  not 
touch  his  allowance  from  the  Assembly ;  that  the  people 
were  the  most  barbarous  in  the  world;  that  when  the 
mob  on  Thursday  last  were  hurrying  away  the  man  they 
suspected  to  be  a  spy,  a  porkman  rushed  from  his  shop 
and  dug  his  knife  into  his  head ;  that  Lafayette  is  no 
republican. 

^January  29.  —  M.  de  Chatelet  and  another  gentleman 
called  this  morning.  M.  de  Chatelet  invited  us  to  ths 
Conversation  de  la  mere  du  Due  de  Rochefoucauldy  —  a  tall, 
thin  woman,  very  animated.  Advised  us  to  attend  the 
"  Comedy,"  and  said  that  we  could  acquire  the  language 
in  two  months ;  that  Burke's  letters  were  written  to  a 
M.  Dupont,  a  young  man,  attached  to  the  new  constitu- 
tion, who  answered  him  with  great  spirit ;  that  we  might 
go  to-morrow  to  the  Assembly  with  M.  Mirabeau,  who 
was  yesterday  elected  President.  Wrote  letters,  and 
afterwards  dined  at  M.  de  Lafayette's. 

1  He  was  born  in  1 757,  and  was  therefore  in  his  34th  year. 


118  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

'Madame  de  Lafayette  said  they  should  come  to  see 
US  after  they  had  finished  their  Kevohition ;  talked  with 
rapture  of  Thomson  and  Gray,  and  thought  the  English 
language  more  difficult  to  learn  than  the  French.  La- 
fayette came  late,  inquired  what  news  from  England; 
said  Pitt  had  a  great  majority  and  the  confidence  of,  but 
was  no  friend  to,  the  people ;  that  every  member  of  the 
Parliament  had  contributed  more  or  less  to  increase  the 
influence  of  the  Crown ;  that  Pitt  did  him  the  honor  to 
dine  with  him  on  his  return  from  Fontainebleau  before 
he  was  Minister,  in  company  with  Dr.  Franklin,  and  then 
told  him  that  he  had  too  much  democracy  in  his  prin- 
ciples for  him.^  There  were  about  twenty-six  people, 
chiefly  officers,  there.  There  were  but  two  courses  and 
a  dessert.  After  dinner,  retired  into  the  drawing-room 
to  drink  coffee.  Beyond  this  was  another  apartment, 
into  which  he  frequently  withdrew  with  some  of  the 
company.  Went  afterwards  to  the  Theatre  Francois, 
and  saw  *' Le  Jaloux  sans  Amour"  and  Auguste  and 
Theodore.  The  King  of  Prussia  —  very  like  Prince 
Henry  —  was  much  struck  with  it,  and  suggested  some 
slight  improvements  in  the  costume.  Saw  there  one  of 
Lafayette's  officers,  who  said  that  Lafayette,  during 
the  heat  of  the  Eevolution,  kept  eighty  men  at  his 
own  expense,  and  now  supports  nearly  twenty  besides 
the  company  at  his  own  table ;  that  he,  the  officer  him- 
self, had  a  shot  through  his  hat  at  the  taking  of  the 
Bastille. 

^January  30.  —  Went  at  ten  to  the  Salle  Rationale; 
the  tribune  crowded,  the  subject  uninteresting  —  respect- 
ing the  alienation  of  the  incomes  of  the  hospitals.  Bar- 
nave,  Rochefoucauld,  and  Mirabeau  spoke  a  few  words ; 
the  last  is  the  best  speaker  in  the  National  Assembly. 

1  In  a  letter  to  his  sister  Sarah,  dated  the  4th  of  February,  Rogers 
says  that  *  Lafayette  said  little  about  the  French  Revolution,  but  was 
very  inquisitive  respecting  the  state  of  politics  in  England.' 


M.  AND  MME.  DE  CONDORCET.  119 

On  the  table  was  a  bust  of  Monsieur  Desiles,  who  fell  a 
victim  to  the  soldiery  at  Nancy.  The  bell  rung  frequently 
by  the  President  Mirabeau  to  obtain  silence.  Walked 
afterwards  in  the  Tuileries  gardens,  and  saw  the  palaces 
of  the  Prince  of  Conde  and  of  Monsieur.  Dined  with 
Mr.  Keay  (nobody  else  there),  and  at  half-past  five  drove 
to  M.  de  Condorcet's,  formerly  secretary  to  the  Academy 
of  Belle  Lettres,  and  found  Madame  de  Condorcet  sit- 
ting in  a  little  room  with  a  girl  of  eight  years  of  age. 
A  charming  woman  with  an  oval  face,  very  open  and  ex- 
pressive, and  very  fair ;  a  beautiful  picture  of  two  ladies 
painted  in  crayons  by  herself.  Full  of  patriotism.  Con- 
dorcet, being  engaged  below  with  Eochefoucauld,  did  not 
appear.  Drove  to  the  Theatre  Francois  and  saw  "  La 
Liberte  conquise,"  —  a  simple  representation  of  the  tak- 
ing of  the  Bastille,  interspersed  with  noble  sentiments  but 
laid  in  a  distant  province.  Between  the  acts  "Ca  ira"  was 
played  by  the  orchestra,  and  the  audience  beat  time  by 
clapping.  When  soldiers  clubbed  their  arms  and  em- 
braced their  fellow-citizens  the  house  resounded  with 
shouts  for  some  minutes.  An  English  nobleman  is  intro- 
duced, who  utters  fine  sentiments  of  liberty,  and  con- 
cludes the  piece  with  this  address,  "Fran9ois,  vous  avez 
conquis  la  liberte,  tachez  de  la  conservir." 

^Went  from  thence  at  nine  to  the  Club  of  the  year 
1789,  —  an  elegant  room  with  sixty  or  seventy  members 
there.  Conversed  with  two,  one  of  whom  offered  to 
supply  me  with  facts  if  I  would  give  him  queries.  They 
knew  well  that  there  were  only  two  parties,  —  for  the 
aristocracy  and  the  crown.  The  apartments  were  three, 
leading  into  each  other.  Proceeded  afterwards  to  sup 
at  Madame  de  Canissy's  Hotel  de  Brienne,  Rue  St. 
Dominique,  Faubourg  St.  Germain.  Entered  through 
several  rooms  into  an  elegant  apartment,  where  were  a 
lady  and  gentleman.  The  company  consisted  of  Madame 
de  Canissy,  a  very  lively,  talkative  woman  ;  her  husband, 


120  EAKLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

who  resembled  a  Methodist  minister ;  Chatelet ;  a  bishop ; 
a  Scotchman,  a  very  pleasant,  sensible  man,  rather  dry  ; 
a  foreign  Ambassador  with  a  star  and  ribbon ;  two  other 
gentlemen,  one  of  whom  came  in  Chatelet's  cabriolet ; 
and  M.  de  Condorcet,^  a  very  sensible  but  very  plain 
man,  and  his  wife  as  enchanting  as  ever.  In  the  room 
was  an  elegant  bed,  with  a  portrait  of  a  lady  hung  at  the 
head  of  it ;  and  close  by  it  was  a  couch  on  which  was  a 
girl,  who  soon  waked  and  was  taken  to  the  fire  to  warm 
its  little  feet  by  Madame  de  Condorcet,  and  afterwards  put 
to  bed  again.  The  supper  was  brought  in  on  the  table, 
at  which  few  sat  down,  except  the  ladies,  and  afterwards 
it  was  carried  out  in  the  same  manner.  Chemistry, 
Shakspeare,  Junius,  Burke,  animal  magnetism,  took 
their  turns.  Chatelet  said  Dr.  Priestley's  "Answer"  was 
far  below  him  ;  Condorcet,  that  water  could  be  decomposed 
into  two  substances ;  and  the  lady  told  a  story  of  M.  de 
Clermont-Tonnerre,  which  all  present  confirmed  as  true, 
that  he  actually  believed  and  had  certificates  that  a 
certain  woman  "  ^tait  accouchee  par  le  diable." 

^February  1.  —  Sallied  forth  with  Mr.  Keay.  Saw  the 
Louvre  with  its  most  elegant  front,  the  Place  de  Greve, 
the  Palais  de  Justice  with  the  Sainte  Chapelle,  the 
Church  of  S.  Genevieve,  the  Church  of  Saint  Sulpice, 
the  Palais  de  Monsieur,  a  Eoman  bath  of  the  Emperor 
Julian  the  Apostate,  the  Mint,  and  the  statue  of  Henri 
IV.  on  the  Pont  Neuf.  M.  Petrie  called  and  said  that 
Barnave,  in  a  colonial  committee  to  which  he  belonged, 
—  Barnave  the  leader  of  the  Band,  —  said  he  hoped  we 
should  be  freer  than  England,  but  feared  that  in  a  few 
years  the  National  Assembly  would  become  like  the 

1  Mr.  Hayward  says  :  *  He  had  met  Condorcet  at  Lafayette's  table 
in  1789.'  Mr.  Hayward  is,  of  course,  referring  to  this  visit  to  Paris  in 
1791.  The  meeting  with  Condorcet,  here  recorded  as  taking  place  at 
Madame  de  Canissy's,  is  clearly  the  first,  and  there  is  no  trace  in  this 
diary  of  Rogers's  meeting  Condorcet  at  Lafayette's  at  all. 


DINES  WITH  ROCHEFOUCAULD.  121 

Parliament  of  England ;  that  he  himself  knew  that  sev- 
eral things  had  been  carried  by  corruption.  Dined  at 
the  Due  de  Kochefoucauld's,  with  twelve  or  fourteen 
gentlemen,  waited  on  at  dinner  by  near  twice  the  number 
of  servants!  Sat  [Boddington  and  Kogers]  on  each  side 
the  Duke,  a  little  man,  continually  winking  his  eyes,  but 
with  an  air  of  great  goodness,  and  very  civil.  During 
dinner  came  a  letter  from  Lord  George  Gordon  enclosing 
his  remarks  on  the  civic  oath.  Chatelet  said  that  he 
was  confined  for  a  crime  of  which  every  man  in  France 
was  guilty.^  After  dinner  rose  immediately,  and  with- 
drew to  the  other  room  with  his  wife.  Mr.  Morris  from 
America,  M.  Chabot,  brother  to  Madame,  M.  Chatelet, 
etc.,  were  there.  In  came  immediately  the  old  duchess, — 
such  a  figure  never  seen  now  but  in  a  picture-frame,  lively 
and  sensible,  and  a  warm  friend  to  the  Eevolution.^ 
Drank  coffee  and  went  to  Mr.  Boyd's  (a  banker),  Rue  de 
Gramont,  where  we  were  soon  set  down  to  hrulantj  —  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Boyd,  General  Campbell,  Mr.  and  Miss  Harris, 
and  M.  Petrie.  M.  P.  said  that  a  considerable  force  was 
sent  to  the  West  Indies  to  quiet  the  contending  parties 
there,  that  Barnave  was  completely  led  by  a  Creole. 

'  February  2.  —  Went  to  the  palace  of  M.  d' Orleans, 
and  saw  his  pictures :  several  of  Raphael,  Rubens,  and 
Titian.  Saw  the  duchess  and  all  the  children.  Dined 
at  the  traiteur's,  and  saw  "  William  Tell,"  a  tragedy  in 
which  La  Rive  acted  very  well,  and  was  afterwards 
called  out  to  make  his  bow.  The  audience  beat  time  to 
"  9^'  ii'a  "  with  the  same  enthusiasm  as  before.    After- 

1  He  was  in  prison  for  libels  on  the  Queen  of  France  and  the 
Empress  of  Russia. 

'^  In  a  letter  to  his  sister  Sarah  describing  this  part  of  his  visit  to 
Paris,  Rogers  says  the  Duchess  Dowager  said  to  hira  :  *  I  once  wished 
to  see  England  ;  but  now  we  are  freer  than  you,  and  you  must  come  to 
us,  not  we  to  you.  I  had  many  intinnities,  but  I  have  not  felt  them 
since  the  Revolution. ' 


122  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

wards  "  Le  Fou  par  Amour."  Went  to  the  Club  of  '89. 
A  debate  on  three  different  motions  to  the  same  purpose, 
the  exclusion  of  the  members  of  the  Club  Monarchique. 
That  of  M.  de  Condorcet  carried.  Was  afterwards  told 
that  the  Club  Monarchique  were  friends  to  despotism 
under  the  mask  of  moderation ;  i  that  the  Club  of  '89 
and  that  of  the  Jacobins  are  much  the  same  in  principle, 
and  act  in  concert  in  the  Assembly,  but  that  the  first  are 
less  precipitate  in  their  measures,  and  that  the  leaders  of 
each  have  a  degree  of  jealousy  of  each  other;  that  a 
motion  had  been  made  more  than  once  to  exclude  those 
of  '89  from  the  Jacobins,  but  without  success ;  that  of  '89 
are  about  four  hundred.  The  Jacobins  much  the  largest. 
M.  Chatelet  gave  us  tickets  for  the  Jacobin  Assembly. 

^February  3.  —  Saw  the  pictures  in  the  Louvre,  chiefly 
French.  Observed  a  coachman  with  bag  and  muff. 
Dined  at  M.  de  Liancourt's  with  about  twenty-four  men, 
Chatelet,'^  Chabot,^  Chapelier,*  M.  de  Eochefoucauld,  etc. 

1  The  Club  Monarchique  was  first  called  the  Club  des  Impartiaux. 

2  This  was  probably  Charles  Louis  Ch§.telet,  who  was  a  leading 
member  of  the  Jacobin  Club.  He  adhered  to  Robespierre,  became  one 
of  the  agents  of  the  Reign  of  Terror,  escaped  on  the  9th  Thermidor,  but 
was  arrested  some  months  afterwards,  tried,  condemned,  and  in  May, 
1795,  executed. 

^  Fran9ois  Chabot  was  in  his  thirty-second  year.  He  had  been  a 
Capuchin  monk,  and  grand  vicar  of  the  constitutional  Bishop  of  Blois. 
He  was  at  this  time  an  enthusiastic  clerical  friend  of  the  Revolution. 
In  the  following  September  he  was  elected  to  the  Legislative  Assembly, 
and  speedily  became  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  *  Mountain '  which  owed 
its  name  to  him.  He  got  the  decree  passed  which  turned  the  cathedral 
of  Paris  into  a  temple  of  reason.  Eventually  he  fell  a  victim  to  the 
Terror,  being  guillotined  on  the  5th  of  April,  1794. 

*  Isaac  Ren^  Chapelier,  then  thirty-seven  years  old,  was  a  member 
of  the  Committee  on  the  Constitution,  and  drew  up  the  decree'  for  the 
abolition  of  the  nohlesse.  He  broke  with  the  party  of  violence,  fled  to 
England,  returned  to  save  his  property,  was  arrested,  condemned  by  the 
revolutionary  tribunal,  and  guillotined  with  Thouret  and  Despremenil 
in  April,  1794. 


PARIS  THEATRES  AND  PLAYS.  123 

Very  elegant  rooms  hung  with  good  paintings  and  look- 
ing into  the  gardens  of  the  Tuileries.  Sat  by  him.  A 
sumptuous  dinner,  —  two  courses  and  a  dessert.  Mira- 
beau  no  favorite,  a  man  of  beaucoup  d' esprit,  with  no 
materials  of  his  own,  but  possessed  of  the  singular  talent 
of  availing  himself  of  the  ideas  of  other  people.  Three 
bishops  have  taken  the  oath.  A  revolution  at  Geneva. 
De  Kochefoucauld  twice  excommunicated  at  Eome. 
Had  seen  Lord  Stanhope  when  at  Geneva,  then  very 
active  with  the  patriots  at  the  same  time  with  Mr. 
Wilkes,  but  would  not  associate  with  him.  "I  admire 
his  public  principles,"  said  Lord  Stanhope  ;  "  I  think  him 
an  oppressed  man  [at  the  time  of  the  ^  North  Briton '  ],  and 
would  support  his  cause,  but  his  private  character  is  bad, 
and  I  don't  want  to  become  acquainted  with  him.''  Saw 
Adam  Smith  here  and  admired  his  "  Wealth  of  Nations." 
The  Jacobins  above  twelve  hundred  in  Paris,  with  six 
hundred  corresponding  societies  in  the  country;  the 
Monarchique  about  four  hundred,  professing  a  desire  to 
establish  a  constitution  like  that  of  England,  but  in  fact 
something  worse ;  that  and  the  Club  of  '89  have  no  other 
branches  in  the  country.  Liancourt  thought  their  vote 
of  last  night  a  bad  one.  Saw  a  fighting  match  with 
handkerchiefs.  Afterwards  at  the  Theatre  du  Palais 
Eoyal  saw  "L'amant  fern  me  de  chambre"  and  "liuse 
contre  ruse,  ou  Guerre  ouverte." 

*  February  4.  —  Saw  the  king's  library  and  his  Cabinet 
des  Estampes.  Saw  a  Euripides  with  notes  by  Racine. 
Dined  at  the  traiteur's,  saw  "  CEdipe  k  Colonne  "  and  the 
ballet  of  "  Cupid  and  Psyche."  ^  Went  afterwards  to  sup 
with  Madame  de  Condorcet.  About  twelve  persons  at 
supper ;  three  rouged  girls.  After  supper  played  at  a 
game.  The  company  fixed  on  a  person  distinguished  in 
history  or  in  the  present  age,  and  somebody  not  in  the 

1  Is  described  in  a  letter.  *  Such  music,  such  scenery  and  dancing, 
I  think  could  not  be  excelled.' 


124  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

secret  asked  what  advice  they  gave  her  or  him  (a  lady  if 
the  asker  be  gentleman,  and  vice  versa).  Que  conseillerez- 
vous  a  mon  ami  ? 

'  Same  day.  —  Saw  the  Place  Venddme ;  the  Hopital 
des  Invalides,  with  a  most  beautiful  dome ;  the  military 
school  and  the  Champ  de  Mars,  the  scaffold  of  which  is 
still  standing,  with  the  elegant  heights  of  the  village 
Chaillot. 

*In  the  centre  of  the  area,  on  an  eminence,  is  the 
maison  in  which  the  oath  was  administered;  on  one 
side  is  written  this  inscription :  "  C'est  dans  ce  champ  ou 
ils  venoient  de  jurer  d'etre  fideles  h  la  Nation,  k  la  Loi 
et  au  Koi." 

'  On  the  opposite  side  were  these  verses :  — 

"  Les  mortels  sont  egaux ;  ce  n'est  pas  leur  naissance, 
C'est  la  seule  vertu  qui  fait  la  difference. 
La  loi  dans  tout  etat  doit  etre  universelle ; 
Les  mortels,  quels  qu'ils  soient,  sont  dgaux  devant  elle." 

*  Saw  the  Hotel  de  Ville ;  the  long  room  in  the  Louvre, 
430  yards  in  length  with  the  exhibition  room.  Went 
to  Rougemont's,  where  were  about  fourteen  people,  two 
men  from  Neufchatel  and  an  Italian  chevalier  who  went 
with  us  to  the  Italian  theatre.  Saw  "  Selima  and  Azor  " 
and  "Le  Convalescent  de  qualite  "  —  a  nobleman  v*^ho, 
having  been  long  confined  by  illness  and  being  ignorant 
of  the  Eevolution,  is  surprised  to  find  his  servants  out 
of  livery,  but  is  told  that  la  loi  Va  dechire  ;  finds  that 
his  daughter  whom  he  had  destined  to  a  convent  is  in 
love  with  a  hoicrgeois,  and  writes  for  a  lettre  de  cachet 
to  confine  him ;  is  insulted  with  the  designation  of  his 
family  name  and  an  application  to  pay  his  debts,  but 
is  at  last,  after  much  point  and  equivoque,  brought  to 
reason.  "He  bien!  demain  Monsieur  le  Colonel,  vous 
monterez  la  garde."  English  horses  here  at  sixty  and 
one  hundred  guineas. 


CALLS  ON  PERIGORD   (TALLEYRAND).  125 

*  Februarij  5.  —  Saw  the  family  go  to  Mass  through  the 
apartments  of  the  Louvre.  The  king  came  first  with 
a  good-humored  unmeaning  face,  afterwards  the  queen, 
bowing  courteously  to  all  about  her,  with  the  dauphin,  a 
little  pale-faced  boy  with  a  kind  of  nightcap  on  his  head. 
She  has  a  beautiful  profile,  but  her  eyes  are  heavy.^ 
Then  Monsieur,  very  like  the  king,  his  eldest  brother, 
and  his  sister.  Heard  Mass,  —  a  most  beautiful  concert. 
Eaphael's  "  Cartoons  "  and  his  "  Mass  at  Bolsena "  in 
tapestry  on  the  walls. 

<  Attempted  to  see  the  king  dine,  but  could  not,  having 
frocks.  In  the  evening  at  five  went  to  Vespers,  where  a 
number  of  men  in  flannel  gowns  and  hoods  chanted  for 
about  half  an  hour  in  a  very  deep  discordant  tone.  The 
king  and  queen  were  there;  below  were  guards  forming 
an  avenue  up  to  the  altar.  Afterwards,  at  tlie  Theatre  de 
Madlle.  de  Montausier  (who  was  there),  saw  "  Le  Sourd  " 
inimitably  well  performed  by  an  actor  who  imitated  the 
Gascon  dialect.  Sat  in  the  orchestra.  Dined  at  the  table 
d'hote  by  myself,  B.  having  a  headache.  Saw  the  hotel 
of  the  Prince  de  Salm,^  who  asks  75,000  francs  for  it. 

'  February  6.  —  Called  on  Perigord.^  Saw  the  remains 
of  the  Bastille,  about  ten  feet  high,  in  an  area  of  three 
or  four  acres  and  surrounded  by  a  fosse.  In  the  centre 
a  staircase  that  led  into  darkness  ;  several  cells  open  to 
daylight,  one  of  which  had  a  cross  traced  on  the  stone,  — 
the  melancholy  amusement  of  some  heavy  hour.    Perigord 

1  In  the  letter  to  his  sister,  Rogers  thus  describes  the  king  and 
queen  :  *  The  king  is  a  very  easy,  good-humored  man  in  appearance  ; 
but  the  queen,  I  think,  has  neither  beauty  nor  good-humor.  She  has 
a  fine  profile,  but  her  eyes  are  very  heavy.* 

2  The  Prince  de  Salm-Kirbourg  was  another  of  the  victims  of  the 
Revolution.  He  was  guillotined  on  the  23d  of  July,  1794,  at  the  age 
of  forty-eight.  Fourteen  months  later  his  property  was  restored  to  his 
family.     His  hotel  became  the  headquarters  of  the  Legion  of  Honor. 

*  Charles  Maurice  de  Perigord,  then  bishop  of  Autun,  afterwards 
Prince  de  Talleyrand. 


126  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

knew  Lafayette,  —  a  man  now  forgotten,  a  courtier  at 
bottom,  but  a  very  amiable,  well-meaning  man.  No  other 
could  fill  his  place  when  he  took  it.  He  said  handsomely 
that  he  accepted  it  because  he  knew  there  was  danger 
in  it.  The  delicacy  of  his  constitution  makes  him  observe 
a  regimen  of  rice  and  eggs.  Waked  often  ten  times  in 
a  night,  as  every  rumor  is  brought  to  him.  P.  said  the 
opera  was  once  the  finest  thing  in  the  world,  on  account  of 
its  company,  but  now  things  were  changed.  Afterwards 
saw  the  Gobelins  tapestry,  the  coloring  beautiful  beyond 
conception, — twenty  years'  practice  before  a  workman 
weaves  figures.  Saw  a  collection  of  Wouvermann's  prints 
at  Bassan's,  Eue  Serpent ;  saw  the  Place  Victoire,  where 
Victory  is  placing  (or  taking  away)  a  wreath  on  the  brow 
of  Louis  XIV.  Dined  at  the  traiteur's,  and  afterwards 
lingered  away  an  hour  at  the  Ambigu  Comique,  a  kind 
of  Sadler's  Wells  on  the  Boulevards.  Eode  this  morning 
on  part  of  them,  and  was  charmed  with  the  villas  and 
various  buildings  j  they  are  planted  on  each  side  with 
trees. 

'  February  7.  —  Kode  along  the  avenue  from  the 
Barrier,  surrounded  with  ginguettes  pour  faire  des  noces 
etfestins,  through  La  Chapelle  to  St.  Denis.  Saw  among 
a  crowd  of  monarchs  Henry  IV.,  Francis  I.,  Hugh  Capet, 
and  Turenne ;  among  the  curiosities,  the  beautiful  onyx 
vase  mentioned  by  Gray,  on  which  is  sculptured  in  hasso^ 
relievo  the  rites  of  Bacchus,  referred  to  the  time  of 
Ptolemy.  Saw  relics  of  saints  in  abundance.  A  silver 
bell  most  musical.  Went  at  five  to  the  Schools  of 
Painting  in  the  Louvre,  and  saw  about  thirty  students 
drawing  and  moulding  in  terra-cotta  the  figure  of  a  man 
who  lay  naked  in  the  centre  in  an  oblique  posture,  his 
right  hand  extended  and  his  left  shading  his  eyes.  The 
same  number  above  drawing  a  man  suspended  by  both 
his  arms  in  pulleys.  Went  afterwards  to  the  Theatre  du 
Palais  Eoyal  and  saw  the  "  Seigneur  Suppose." 


THE  CONQUERORS  OF  THE  BASTILLE.  127 

<  February  8.  —  Eode  with  Mr.  Keay  along  the  road  to 
Versailles.  Passed  Passy,  the  village  from  which  Pilatre 
de  Eosier  first  ascended  in  a  balloon,  and  saw  the  house 
in  which  Dr.  Franklin  lived,  —  a  white  house  with  green 
windows.  At  Sevres  saw  the  beautiful  china  in  a  princely 
house,  and  proceeded  by  several  houses  to  Versailles, 
now  a  desert.  Like  the  deserted  town  in  the  "  Arabian 
Nights  "  silence  has  laid  her  finger  on  it.  Saw  amidst  a 
number  of  statues  Jupiter  Stator  before  which  Augustus 
and  the  Caesars  made  vows.  It  had  stood  in  the  palace, 
but  commanded  too  much  respect  there.  Saw  the  "  Witch 
of  Endor  "  by  Salvator  Kosa,  "  Alexander  in  the  Tent  of 
Darius  "  by  Le  Brun,  and  "  Charles  I."  by  Vandyke ;  the 
Church  of  the  Convent  of  the  Augustines,  and  the  room 
in  which  the  Assembly  first  met,  —  all  perfect  in  their 
kind.  Some  Swiss  exercising  there.  Dined  with  Mr. 
Keay.  Went  afterwards  to  the  Societe  des  Amis  de  la 
Constitution.  Passed  through  a  long  arched  passage,  and 
ascended  by  a  stone  staircase  into  a  long  narrow  room, 
with  a  low  vaulted  roof,  formerly  the  library  of  the 
Jacobins.  Over  the  recesses  for  the  books  were  written 
"  Historiae  profanse,"  "  Interpretes  Scripturse,"  "  SS. 
Patres,"  etc.,  with  several  portraits  of  nuns  and  abbots. 
An  inquiry  into  the  affair  of  La  Chapelle  was  before 
them,  the  room  full,  300  or  400  present.  A  fulmination 
against  the  Societe  Monarchique.  The  conquerors  of 
the  Bastille  presented  themselves,  three  plain  modest 
men,  thanked  them  for  having  been  chosen  members  of 
their  Society,  presented  them  with  a  book,  and  desired 
leave  to  put  themselves  under  the  protection  of  the 
Society,  as  they  had  reason  to  expect  every  moment  to 
be  assassinated.  The  President  replied  that  every  citi- 
zen was  under  the  protection  of  the  law,  that  assassins 
seldom  attacked  men  of  true  courage,  that  if  they  main- 
tained that  character  they  had  hitherto  borne  they  would 
be  always  dear  to  every  friend  of  his  country,  and  that 


128  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

in  the  hour  of  danger  every  member  of  that  Society 
•would  stand  foremost  in  the  defence  of  men  who  de- 
served so  well  of  their  country. 

'  February  9.  —  Saw  with  Mr.  Keay  the  chapel  of  the 
Carmelites  in  which  is  a  beautiful  Guido,  but  ill-engraved 
by  Strange  ;  and  Madame  La  Valliere  in  the  character  of 
a  Magdalene,  the  chef  d^oeuvre  of  Le  Brun.  Le  Val  de 
Grace,  a  gaudy  church,  and  the  chapel  of  the  Carthu- 
sians, but  Le  Sueur's  "  History  of  St.  Bruno  "  is  removed 
to  the  Louvre  and  lies  packed  up.  Walked  into  the  stone 
quarries  (near  Val  de  Grace)  that  undermine  the  city, — 
three  miles  one  way  and  a  mile  and  a  half  the  other ; 
walked  above  half  an  hour ;  saw  a  cavity  into  which 
the  nuns  of  Val  de  Grace  were  let  down  when  in  dis- 
grace, and  fed  with  bread  dropped  down  by  a  string. 
Saw  the  workmen  employed,  several  air-holes ;  could  walk 
for  days  a  different  route,  many  branches  and  turns ; 
were  conducted  by  a  pleasant  lively  fellow.  At  Notre 
Dame  heard  Mass,  saw  a  good  picture  of  Le  Sueur's,  and 
from  the  top  of  the  great  tower  saw  the  city  intersected  by 
the  Seine  and  crowded  with  churches,  convents,  and  pal- 
aces, the  environs  rich  and  woody  and  gay  with  chateaus 
and  villages,  —  a  much  better  view  than  from  St.  Paul's. 
The  day  favorable.  The  pavement  of  Paris  bad,  —  the 
stones  being  cut  square  and  not  oblong  are  soon  worn 
round  by  the  feet  of  the  horses  ;  the  lights  of  Paris  daz- 
zling, from  their  hanging  in  the  centre  before  the  eyes  of 
the  coachman,  but  the  lamp  sooner  cleaned  and  repaired 
from  its  construction  being  an  octagon  with  framed  glass. 

*  Dined  at  Perigord's  wi^h  Mr.  Payn,  Mr.  Hartley,  Mr, 
Lockhart,  and  several  Englishmen.  Went  to  the  opera,^ 
and  saw  Renaud  with  a  divertissement, 

^  February  10.  —  Rode  with  Mr.  Keay  by  the  Duke  of 
Orleans's  English  garden  and  a  barrier,  a  very  beautiful 
Grecian  Rotunda  by  the  side  of  it,  to  Pont  Neuilly,  a 
very  elegant  bridge,  with  six  elliptical  arches,  on  the  top 


PLACES  AND  PALACES.  129 

of  a  direct  plane.  The  country  round  it  beautiful. 
Eode  through  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  chiefly  young  wood, 
where  the  king  generally  rides  every  morning,  to  Baga- 
telle, Comte  d'Artois's  small  house,  not  inelegant,  with  a 
garden,  a  false  imitation  of  the  English.  Passed  Madrid, 
a  gothic  chateau  built  by  Francis  I.  after  his  return  from 
Spain,  inlaid  with  porcelain,  but  now  ruinous,  and  sen- 
tenced to  fall  by  the  National  Assembly.  Saw  Long- 
champs,  a  little  hill  with  a  nunnery  on  its  summit,  in 
which  are  musical  performances  the  last  three  days  of 
Passion  week.  A  few  years  ago  a  favorite  opera-singer 
was  engaged  there,  and  the  crowd  from  Paris  was  far  too 
great  to  be  accommodated.  The  day  being  fine,  numbers 
amused  themselves  with  riding  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne. 
The  thing  took,  and  in  these  days  every  year  all  Paris  in 
its  best  equipages  pours  out  to  parade  in  the  Bois  de  Bou- 
logne. The  palace  of  Versailles,  almost  entirely  built 
from  a  hunting-seat  by  Louis  XIV.,  who  did  not  like  St. 
Germain's  (a  finer  situation),  as  it  commanded  St.  Denis, 
where  he  was  to  be  buried.  Saw  St.  Cloud,  the  queen's 
house,  where  the  king  resided  last  summer,  —  a  very  ele- 
gant modern  house ;  the  gardens  are  in  infamous  taste. 
A  beautiful  day.  Walked  with  Mr.  Keay  in  the  Tuile- 
ries  ;  full  of  company.  Saw  the  dauphin's  garden  and 
duckery  at  the  end  of  it,  in  which  his  name  was  sown  in 
mustard-seed,  —  Louis  Dauphin.  Fair  people  always  in- 
constant and  wavering.  Went  to  the  Bouche  de  Fer,  a 
debating  society  on  the  principles  of  Rousseau,  in  the 
Circus,  his  bust  before  the  President,  the  Abbe  Mailly  ; 
a  numerous  company.  Afterwards  saw  "  The  Apothecary  " 
and  "  Sourd  "  at  M.  de  Montpensier's,  and  looked  into  the 
Society  of  '89;  nothing  doing.  W^ent  to  the  Jacobins, 
but  it  was  over.  If  one  hundred  millions  have  been 
spent  on  building  it,  as  much  has  been  spent  on  going  to 
see  it.  Chatelet  not  at  the  Jacobins,  because  no  favorite, 
as  his  friend  Lafayette  is  not  popular. 

9 


130  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

'  February  12.  —  A  delicious  day.  Eode  to  Vincennes, 
where  is  a  palace  in  a  very  pleasant  park,  in  which  our 
Henry  V.  died,  and  in  which  Louis  XIV.  first  saw 
Madame  La  Valliere,  —  a  chapel  with  beautiful  painted 
windows  (mentioned  by  Gray),  and  a  State  prison, 
chamber  within  chamber,  lighted  by  a  narrow  grated 
window  and  carved  on  the  walls  of  each,  to  chase  ennui 
from  the  victims  of  tyranny.  From  the  roof  is  a  deli- 
cious view  of  the  suburbs  of  Paris  and  the  country,  and 
round  each  story  runs  a  gallery  with  a  low  parapet,  into 
which  some  of  the  prisoners  were  taken  for  air.  Who 
can  sigh  on  seeing  the  still  gloom  that  pervades  Ver- 
sailles, the  grandest  palace  and  the  most  elegant  village 
in  the  world,  —  who  can  sigh  on  seeing  the  grass  grow  in 
the  courts  of  the  one  and  the  streets  of  the  other,  when 
he  recollects  that  so  many  dungeons  share  its  downfall  ? 
Dined  at  the  table  d^hote,  and  afterward  walked  along  the 
Seine  and  saw  La  Sainte  Chapelle ;  mixed  in  every  group 
that  was  collected  by  the  buffoon  and  the  ballad-singer, 
and  walked  in  the  Tuileries,  which  were  full  of  company. 
Saw  "  Cupid  and  Psyche." 

*  February  13.  —  At  the  Church  of  Notre  Dame,  from  a 
gallery,  saw  three  cures  elected  by  the  Electoral  Assembly 
in  the  great  aisle ;  each  from  the  pulpit  delivered  a  short 
discourse  expressive  of  his  attachment  to  the  present 
constitution.  He  said  that  his  office  as  preacher  was  to 
enlighten  the  people  and  give  energy  to  the  laws ;  that 
heaven  approved  of  the  Confederation,  and  that  to  incul- 
cate these  sentiments  would  be  the  last  employment  of 
his  life.  High  Mass  performed.  Afterwards  the  king 
and  queen,  with  the  two  children  and  Monsieur  and 
Madame  walked  to  chapel.  Saw  them  at  Mass  after- 
wards. The  Tuileries  gardens  very  full  of  company. 
Attempted  the  National  Assembly  with  Mirabeau's 
ticket,  but  was  refused:  nobody  admitted  there.  Mr. 
Keay  dined  with  us  on  frog  pie,  and  we  went  to  see 


I 


INFLUENCE  OF  ROUSSEAU  AND  VOLTAIRE.     131 

''  Didon  "  and  "  Le  Devin  du  Village,"  an  opera,  the  words 
and  the  music  by  Eousseau,  the  fable  very  simple,  the 
music  in  general  charming.     To-morrow  leave  Paris. 

^February  14.  —  Mr.  Keay  called  and  spent  an  hour 
with  us,  and  said  the  Protestants  were  numerous  in  this 
town,  but  that  all  calculations  were  very  erroneous  and 
that  there  was  no  place  of  public  worship  but  the  English 
Ambassador's  chapel ;  that  the  king  had  allowed  twenty 
thousand  a  year  to  the  opera,  but  not  now,  and  owing 
to  this  circumstance  and  the  noblesse  having  thrown  up 
their  boxes,  it  was  in  debt  fifty  thousand  to  its  tradesmen  ; 
the  Theatre  de  Monsieur  also  much  in  debt ;  that  in  one  of 
the  churches  at  Rouen  he  saw  nobody  but  a  woman  flat 
on  the  ground  apparently  in  the  greatest  agony  ;  that  he 
watched  till  she  rose  up  and  went  out :  he  had  the  curi- 
osity to  see  her  face  ;  it  was  the  wickedest  in  the  world. 
Said  that  Rousseau  copied  music  at  Paris,  when  he  had 
about  £100  a  year,  but  would  not  accept  anything  more 
than  his  due,  as  he  (Mr.  Keay)  was  told  last  night  by  a 
lady  who  took  him  some  to  copy  purposely  to  see  him,  but 
that  when  she  offered  to  leave  more  his  wife  assured  her 
that  he  would  not  suffer  her  to  take  it ;  that  the  Revolu- 
tion was  in  great  measure  ascribed  to  his  "  Contrat  Social,'' 
but  that  Voltaire  with  his  winning  vivacity  first  led  the 
French  to  think  on  the  subject ;  that  he  saw  him  when 
he  was  received  at  the  French  Comedy  with  great 
honors,  just  after  the  present  king  had  refused  to  see 
him  at  Versailles,  though  in  policy  he  should  have  gone 
to  meet  him,  and  that  that  affair  was  the  first  blow  to 
the  old  government ;  that  he  knew  Diderot  perfectly,  and 
saw  him  just  before  his  death ;  his  advice  to  him  he 
should  always  observe :  "  Never  let  a  Frenchman  come 
nearer  to  you  than  this,"  said  he,  stretching  out  his  arm 
to  some  distance  in  his  usual  emphatic  manner.  The 
air  mild  and  pleasant  as  October,  but  cloudy.  The 
country  soon  improved  with   some   rich    distances,  and 


132  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

villages  everywhere  on  the  horizon,  but  was  still  open 
and  flat  on  the  foreground  and  intersected  with  roads 
planted  on  each  side  with  trees  in  straight  lines.  The 
ground  almost  all  tillage,  and  the  farmers  at  the  plough ; 
a  single  man  guides  it.  It  is  drawn  by  two  horses 
abreast,  and  no  other  man  attends  with  a  whip,  as  in 
England.  Our  post-boy  had  ruffles  and  earrings,  and 
drove  as  fast  as  in  England.  Kecollect  that  in  the  Paris 
houses  there  are  no  passages,  but  that  we  always  passed 
through  the  eating  parlor  in  our  way  to  the  drawing- 
room.  Saw  frequently  two  smiths  shoeing^  one  horse. 
At  Senlis,  where  are  two  or  three  old  collegiate  churches, 
we  walked  along  a  pleasant  promenade  that  runs  beside 
the  town  and  saw  near  twenty  women  washing  clothes  in 
the  little  river  Nonette,  and  beating  them  with  a  wooden 
trowel.  From  thence  passed  through  the  Prince  de 
Conde's  woods,  being  now  near  Chantilly,  along  a  serpen- 
tine road  to  Pont  St.  Maxence,  so  called  from  an  elegant 
bridge  with  three  elliptic  arches  on  strong  pillars,  and 
a  good  towing-path  built  by  Maxence,  who  built  Pont 
Neuilly  and  is  now  engaged  on  Pont  Louis  Seize.  The 
view  from  the  bridge  very  rich  and  woody  on  both  sides. 
On  the  roadside  from  Bourgot  were  frequently  four 
handsome  stone  pillars  forming  a  square ;  on  inquiring, 
found  they  were  gibbets.  Walked  in  the  village,  full  of 
rosy,  healthy  children  with  black  eyes  and  round,  merry 
faces.  On  stopping  to  admire  them  a  woman  pleasantly 
asked  us  if  we  would  have  a  coop  to  take  some  of  them 
away  with  us.  At  the  church  door  saw  two  little  fellows 
striding  over  the  pathway  with  spelling-books  under  their 
arms.  On  the  pillar  that  formed  one  side  of  the  portico 
was  fixed  a  board  full  of  nails,  with  several  written 
advertisements  of  wood  and  houses  upon  it,  as  in  some 
of  the  country  churchyards  in  England.  The  river  Oise 
winds  here  very  pleasantly  through  the  valley.  Arrived 
here  at  half-past  four,  and  on  inquiry  learned,  with  regret, 


EN  ROUTE  TO  BRUSSELS.  133 

that  last  night  there  had  been  a  dance  of  about  two 
hundred  people,  with  three  or  four  violins,  in  the  "  Grand 
Salon  "  by  the  riverside,  and  eight  dances  at  a  time,  —  one 
sous  for  each  dance.  Played  au  noble  jeu  de  hillard,  a 
favorite  game  among  the  townspeople.  In  the  coffee- 
house at  Versailles  the  laboring  people  of  both  sexes 
drank  coffee  and  talked  politics.  Saw  a  drunken  man 
there,  the  only  one  I  have  seen. 

*  February  15.  —  Set  out  at  half-past  six  through  a 
flat  country  and  along  a  straight  road.  Near  Gournay, 
which  lies  in  a  hollow,  the  scene  became  more  unequal 
and  woody.  A  chateau  stands  just  without  the  town. 
Here  walked  on,  while  the  horses  were  changing,  and 
had  an  extensive  but  uniform  view  on  the  left,  the  larks 
singing  and  the  air  mild  and  serene.  The  young  corn 
springing  up  in  different  streaks  with  the  freshest  ver- 
dure, and  a  file  of  beeches  skirting  the  edge  of  the  hori- 
zon on  each  side,  while  little  plots  of  villages  appeared 
here  and  there.  Beyond  Conchy  les  Pots  left  the  chaise, 
and  walked  above  a  mile  under  a  row  of  apple-trees  that 
were  planted  on  the  field-side,  —  the  sun  shining  and  the 
larks  still  singing.  Breakfasted  at  Koye,  at  the  "  Soleil 
d'or,"  where  we  were  waited  on  by  some  very  handsome 
young  women,  the  younger  sisters  of  our  landlady  at 
Pont  St.  Maxence.  Walked  on  a  pleasant  terrace,  which 
surrounds  the  village,  and  is  dignified  with  the  name  of 
a  rampart.  A  Hard  was  levied  from  us  by  some  boys  to 
play  for  at  top.  At  some  little  distance  saw  a  convent 
now  nearly  deserted  by  the  monks  of  the  Cordeliers.  The 
day  soon  turned  to  heavy  rain,  which  lasted  till  within 
a  post  of  Peronne,  but  the  country  continued  flat  and 
the  prospect  extensive,  diversified  with  streaks  of  corn 
and  fallow  ground  melting  away  into  the  softest  colors 
through  the  harmonizing  medium  of  a  rainy  atmosphere. 
The  crucifix  rose  frequently  by  the  wayside,  a  windmill 
was  generally  turning  on  an  eminence,  and  several  spires 


134  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

were  frequently  visible  at  once  above  the  horizon.  Passed 
by  several  orchards  and  soon  descended  to  Peronne,  a 
fortified  town  round  which  the  Somme  is  carried,  and 
into  which  we  entered  through  two  gateways.  Ascended 
the  ramparts  by  a  crucifix  before  which  a  well-dressed 
woman  was  devoutly  kneeling ;  commanded  on  one  side 
the  outskirts  of  the  town,  and  on  the  other  a  valley 
nearly  half  a  mile  wide  and  flooded  with  water,  but 
broken  into  little  islands  planted  with  cabbages  or 
covered  with  willows  and  rushes.  Observed  two  little 
towers  enclosed  with  strong  square  walls  that  were  each 
washed  by  the  water  and  comprehended  about  half  an 
acre.  Imagined  they  were  castles,  but  found  them  to  be 
summer-houses  in  which  the  bourgeois  dine  and  drink  tea. 
From  one  part  looked  up  the  great  street  and  the  market- 
place. Descended  into  the  town  by  the  crucifix ;  but  the 
scene  was  changed,  some  children  playing  merrily  before 
it.  Every  Sunday  evening  is  here  consecrated  to  the 
dance  in  which  the  bourgeois  and  the  servants  are  regularly 
taught ;  an  academy  is  open  for  the  latter  to-night. 

'  At  Marche  le  Pot  met  the  Brussels  diligence,  a  long 
unwieldy  vehicle,  containing  eight  inside  passengers  in 
three  rows,  three  in  a  kind  of  cabriolet  in  front,  two  in 
a  basket  at  the  top,  and  an  immense  [mass  of]  luggage 
behind  and  before.  It  was  drawn  by  eight  horses,  two 
abreast,  with  two  postilions  on  the  first  and  third  near 
horse.  It  had  hardly  moved  ten  yards  when  it  fell  into 
a  deep  rut ;  a  cry  of  despair  immediately  issued  from  it, 
the  passengers  jumped  out  from  the  front  and  crawled 
from  the  top,  and  the  women  within  desired  with  great 
fervency  to  be  let  out.  Above  twenty  people  flew  with 
ropes  to  restore  it  to  its  proper  centre,  and  with  great 
efforts  it  was  removed  from  the  rut  without  a  downfall. 
In  the  mean  time  a  cheerful  fellow,  who  had  descended 
from  his  post  in  front  withithe  same  ease  and  unconcern 
that  he  would  have  crossed  a  threshold,  walked  up  to 


CAMBRAI,  AND  THE  TOMB   OF  r:fcNELON.      135 

our  chaise  door  and  inquired  what  news  from  Paris  and 
whether  we  were  going  to  London.  He  said  he  was  a 
Dutchman,  and  a  rope-dancer  by  profession ;  that  he  had 
served  under  Astley  in  London  and  also  at  Sadler's 
Wells,  and  was  now  engaged  by  him  at  Paris,  to  which 
place  he  was  going.  At  Koye  had  left  the  diligence 
from  Paris  to  Brussels  where  it  stood,  —  the  gaze  of  the 
market-place.  In  the  bookseller's  shop  in  the  Palais 
Eoyal  asked  for  the  "History  of  the  Bastille,"  and  a 
well-dressed  man  immediately  opening  it  [the  shopman] 
and  unfolding  a  plan  of  it,  "  There,"  said  he,  "  was  Mar- 
montel  confined,  and  that,"  he  added  with  all  the  un- 
concern possible,  "  was  my  apartment."  "  You,  sir  ?  " 
"Yes,  sir,  I  published  something  that  gave  offence, 
and  I  passed  eight  months  there."  "  Were  you  well 
treated?"  "Never  better,  sir."  Are  lodged  at  the 
Grand  Cerf,  kept  by  the  eldest  sister  of  those  at  Pont 
St.  Maxence  and  Roye. 

'  February  16.  —  Set  off  at  six  precisely,  by  owl-light, 
through  the  same  flat  country,  and  were  driven  by  a 
phlegmatic  Fleming  with  a  large  round  hat  and  a  pipe 
in  his  mouth.  At  Cambrai,  a  large  handsome  town 
where  we  breakfasted,  saw  the  cathedral,  a  large  old 
building,  the  gates  of  the  chancel  sealed,  with  the  names 
of  the  Commissioners  affixed  to  them.  A  woman  had 
torn  off  part  of  the  paper,  saying  they  should  not  keep 
her  God  in  jail.  Saw  the  tomb  and  bust  of  Fenelon, 
with  a  very  true  Latin  epitaph.  The  palace  contiguous, 
very  old,  the  most  modern  part  built  by  him.  Went 
through  the  cloisters  of  the  convent  of  Chartreuse  and 
saw  a  picture,  by  Rubens,  of  our  Saviour  taken  down 
from  the  Cross,  —  very  fine  coloring,  with  some  good 
figures.  Was  shown  it  by  one  of  the  Fathers,  a  mild 
cheerful  man  about  fifty.  We  desired  to  see  his  apart- 
ment ;  he  nodded  assent  and  said  it  was  but  small.  We 
followed  him  up  a  brick  staircase,  that  led   from   the 


136  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

cloisters,  into  a  long  narrow  gallery  into  which  their 
different  cells  opened  with  their  names  inscribed  upon 
them.  His  was  indeed  small,  and  consisted  of  a  bed- 
chamber and  oratory,  with  a  little  casement  to  each; 
altogether  about  twelve  feet  by  six.  I  stepped  into  his 
study  ;  there  were  several  little  phials  on  his  desk.  There 
was  but  one  book,  —  a  missal.  He  said  they  dined  at 
eleven,  had  no  breakfast,  but  supped  at  six,  went  early 
to  bed,  and  rose  at  twelve,  when  their  matins  lasted  till 
one.  There  were  but  seventeen  monks  there.  In  a  new 
church  lower  down  saw  some  very  good  painting  in  bas- 
relief.  The  Hotel  de  Ville,  in  the  market-place,  just 
finished  and  very  elegant.  Left  the  town  on  foot, 
having  dismissed  our  guide,  —  an  old  man  who  once  lived 
in  England  with  Lord  Stormont, —  and  pursued  the  road 
to  Brussels,  having  a  valley  on  the  left  in  which  was  a 
village  shaded  with  trees.  The  country  soon  opened 
again,  the  eye  commanding  a  wide  circle,  diversified  by 
no  near  objects,  but  frequently  pointed  with  above  eight 
spires  at  once.  Valenciennes,  which  we  soon  approached, 
lay  low,  but  appeared  very  considerable  from  its  towers 
and  steeples.  It  proved  the  largest  town  we  had  seen 
except  Paris,  and  was  very  strongly  fortified.  Walked 
on  the  ramparts,  but  were  stopped  by  a  shower  when 
we  had  completed  but  half  the  circuit.  Returned  into 
the  town  and  crossed  a  very  handsome  place,  distin- 
guished by  a  pedestrian  statue  of  Louis  XV.,  an  hotel  de 
ville,  and  a  theatre.  Saw  the  Hospital  for  Orphans,  and 
the  Citadel,  —  a  modern  brick  building.  From  the  ram- 
parts had  a  Flemish  view,  —  cold,  tame,  and  watery. 
Here  Boddington  bought  a  puppy  of  an  apothecary. 
"  Otez  vos  cockades.  Messieurs." 

'  February  17.  —  Set  off  before  seven,  and  soon  entered 
the  emperor's  dominions,  along  a  straight  road  planted 
with  willows,  raised  above  the  country,  and  terminated 
with  a  church.    The  face  of  it  soon  improved.    Mons, 


AT  BRUSSELS.  137 

where  we  breakfasted,  is  a  large  fortified  town,  with  a 
very  handsome  place,  in  which  is  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  and 
where  the  Austrian  troops  were  exercising.  The  faces 
of  the  people  were  here  quite  Flemish,  and  had  lost  all 
the  French  vivacity ;  but  there  were  many  very  pretty 
women.  Between  this  and  Valenciennes  was  a  stone 
pillar  to  the  memory  of  the  Prince  of  Hainault.  Casteau, 
the  first  post,  was  a  very  romantic  village,  the  ground 
broken,  and  the  huts  one  above  another.  The  landscape 
now  became  English,  a  valley  on  each  side  full  of  farm- 
houses and  enclosures,  and  bounded  by  hills  dotted  with 
wood.  The  road  continued  straight  to  Brussels.  On 
each  side  were  many  Santa  Marias,  enclosed  in  a  kind  of 
sentry-box  and  peeping  through  an  iron  lattice.  Met 
several  strolling  friars,  one  of  whom  was  taken  into  a 
coach  by  a  fat  ahhe.  As  we  approached  Brussels  saw 
low  carts  drawn  by  four  dogs  abreast  and  a  horse  as 
leader.  Austrian  Flanders,  at  least  that  part  which  is 
near  the  capital,  is  far  pleasanter  and  more  varied  than 
French  Flanders.  The  post-horse  which  the  man  rides 
has  bells.  The  uniform  changed  from  blue  and  scarlet 
to  scarlet  and  yellow,  and  they  were  less  scrupulous  in 
passing  another  traveller  than  in  France.  At  Brussels 
saw  "L'Amant  jaloux,"  an  opera,  in  an  oblong  theatre, 
the  boxes  partitioned  from  each  other  and  lighted  within, 
—  their  fronts  of  wood,  painted  white,  with  light  gold 
ornaments,  in  compartments  very  cheerful  and  elegant. 
The  parterre  full  of  oflS.cers.  French  dukes,  marquises, 
and  counts  here.' 

The  glimpses  of  revolutionary  Paris  in  this  diary  are 
the  more  valuable  because  they  give  us  its  social  rather 
than  its  political  aspects.  It  is  ^  France  standing  on  the 
top  of  golden  hours,'  as  Wordsworth  described  it,  though 
without  many  of  the  signs  Wordsworth  saw,  of  '  human 
nature  seeming  born  again.'     The  hearty  admiration  of 


138  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

England  expressed  to  Rogers  by  some  of  the  most  promi- 
nent leaders  of  the  movement  in  France,  was  repaid  on 
the  English  side  by  the  sympathy  which  all  liberal  mmds 
felt  with  Frenchmen.  More  than  one  illustration  of  this 
feeling  is  given  in  Eogers's  correspondence.  One  of  the 
literary  acquaintances  he  had  made  in  London  was  Dr. 
John  Moore,  the  father  of  Sir  John  Moore  and  of  Admiral 
Sir  Graham  Moore,  and  then  best  known  as  the  author 
of  ^Zeluco,'  the  most  popular  novel  of  its  time.  Dr. 
Moore  had  published,  in  1779,  *  Views  of  Society  and 
Manners  in  France,  Switzerland,  and  Germany,'  and  in 
1787  a  similar  book  on  Italy.  He  had  also  written 
'Medical  Sketches,'  —  a  work  which  may  have  suggested 
"Warren's  'Passages  from  the  Diary  of  a  late  Physician,' 
as  '  Zeluco '  is  said  to  have  kindled  the  fancy  of  Byron  and 
led  to  the  production  of  '  Childe  Harold.'  '  Zeluco,'  which 
has  as  a  second  title,  '  Various  Views  of  Human  Nature 
taken  from  Life  and  Manners,  Foreign  and  Domestic,' 
was  published  in  1789 ;  and  Mrs.  Barbauld  says  in  her 
Memoir  of  the  author  that  it  at  once  placed  him  in  the 
lirst  rank  of  writers  of  that  class.  Rogers  probably  met 
Dr.  Moore  at  the  house  of  Miss  Helen  Williams,  and, 
different  as  the  two  men  were,  a  warm  friendship  sprang 
up  between  them.  Dr.  Moore  was  a  large  man,  with 
shaggy  eyebrows  and  a  most  expressive  countenance  ; 
shrewd  and  humorous  in  conversation,  full  of  knowledge 
of  men  and  things.  He  had  been  with  the  army  in 
Flanders,  had  studied  medicine  in  Paris,  had  then  prac- 
tised as  a  surgeon  in  Glasgow  till  he  was  forty,  and  had 
afterwards  travelled  for  five  years  with  the  Duke  of 
Hamilton.  He  was  in  his  sixtieth  year  when  *  Zeluco ' 
was  published.  Rogers  had  probably  received  some  in- 
troductions from  him  when  he  went  to  Paris,  and  wrote 
to  him  during  his  stay  in  that  capital.  Dr.  Moore's 
reply  illustrates  both  the  character  of  the  man  and  the 
feelings  and  opinions  which  were  current  at  the  time. 


THE  AUTHOR  OF  'ZELUCO/  139 

Dr,  Moore  to  S.  Rogers. 

'Dear  Sir,  —  I  thank  you  very  cordially  for  your  letter, 
which  came  a  propos  to  destroy  the  effect  of  recent 
rumors :  of  a  counter  revolution,  of  the  king  being  in 
danger  of  being  ravished  by  two  old  princesses,  of  insur- 
rections in  all  quarters,  etc.,  —  all  of  which  your  satis- 
factory and  perspicuous  letter  dispersed,  as  the  fogs  and 
clouds  are  dispersed  by  the  rays  of  the  sun.  The  abettors 
of  despotism  will  be  continually  inventing  stories  of  the 
same  kind,  and  we  may  expect  to  hear  of  Spaniards 
jumping  over  the  Pyrenean  mountains  ;  of  the  Emperor 
giving  peace  to  the  Turks  by  the  Pope's  orders,  that  he 
may  be  at  more  leisure  to  make  war  on  the  Christians ; 
of  armies  in  disguise  at  the  gates  of  Paris,  and  other 
tales  equally  probable.  Why  should  they  not  still  hope 
for  the  restoration  of  the  Bastille,  and  the  return  of  a 
monarch  in  all  the  splendor  of  unlimited  power?  Do 
not  the  Jews  still  look  for  the  coming  of  the  Messiah  ? 

*  I  envy  your  present  opportunity  very  much  of  being 
an  eye-witness  to  the  most  complete  triumph  over  tyranny 
and  debasing  prejudices  that  Philosophy  and  the  free 
spirit  of  man  ever  enjoyed.  I  always  loved  the  French 
as  an  ingenious  and  amiable  people  ;  I  now  admire  them 
as  real  and  enlightened  Franks,  and  am  not  surprised 
—  as  many  here  seem  to  be  —  that  the  National  Assembly 
have  made  so  little  progress  towards  the  establishment  of 
a  steady  free  constitution,  but  I  wonder  rather  that  they 
have  made  so  much.  It  ought  to  be  remembered  that  it 
was  an  unforeseen  accident  (the  foolish  attack  of  Lambert 
in  the  Tuileries)  that  threw  the  power  so  rapidly  in  their 
hands  ;  and  although  they  had  the  spirit  to  seize  it  with 
ability,  yet  they  must  have  respect  to  the  prejudices  of 
that  very  populace  who  were  the  immediate  instruments 
of  transferring  it  to  them.  This  no  doubt  clogs  and 
retards  their  progress  in  the  rearing  a  stable  and  com- 


140  EAULY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

modious  structure  of  Freedom,  but  with  a  little  time 
I  am  persuaded  ga  ira  a  la  derniere  perfection,  and  they 
have  my  best  wishes.  Make  my  best  compliments  to  M. 
de  Lafayette,  and  tell  him  so.  If  I  can  get  over  to  Paris 
in  summer  I  shall  carry  letters  to  him  from  his  friend 
Colonel  Fitzpatrick  and  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire. 

*I  have  not  yet  seen  M.  Dupont's  answer  to  Mr. 
Burke ;  but  you  will  bring  what  is  most  curious  when 
you  come. 

^  There  is  nothing  new  here,  only  some  people  imagine 
that  Pitt  intends  to  send  his  veto  by  the  Baltic  and  the 
Mediterranean  against  the  Empress's  seizing  Constanti- 
nople.    Pour  moi,  je  n^en  sgai  rien. 

'  Adieu,  my  dear  Rogers !  Believe  me  always,  with 
much  esteem,  sincerely  yours, 

*J.  Moore. 

*  Clifford  Street,  Feb.  10,  1791.' 

Dr.  Moore's  letter  fitly  ends  a  chapter,  the  notes  to 
which  may  be  fairly  regarded  as  the  disappointing  answer 
of  history  to  the  anticipations  he  expresses,  —  antici- 
pations which  Rogers,  as  his  diary  shows,  fully  shared. 
The  disillusion  came  quickly  enough  for  them  and  for 
Europe.  We  have  but  to  put  ourselves  in  their  position 
to  understand  the  revulsion  of  feeling  which  in  this 
country  threw  back  the  cause  of  social  and  political  re- 
form for  forty  years.  Rogers  looked  back  on  this  visit 
to  Paris  in  1791  with  a  feeling  of  horror.  He  often 
spoke  of  the  men  he  had  then  seen,  but  he  did  not  re- 
fresh his  memory  by  references  to  his  diary,  which  he 
seems  to  have  put  aside  and  almost  forgotten.  To  read 
it  would  have  been  indeed  to  walk  among  ruins  and 
tombs.  He  always  recollected  with  a  shudder  that  most 
of  the  men  he  met  were,  at  the  very  time  he  was  talking 
to  them  and  sharing  their  glowing  anticipations,  standing, 
as  it  were,  with  one  foot  in  the  grave.     There  are,  per- 


THE  REIGN  OF  TERROR.  141 

hapSj  few  more  moving  spectacles  in  history  than  that  of 
the  old  Duchess-dowager  de  la  Rochefoucauld,  *  a  figure 
never  seen  now  but  in  a  picture  frame,'  talking  to  Rogers 
with  enthusiasm  of  the  Revolution,  declaring  that  she 
had  not  felt  her  many  infirmities  since  it  began,  and  then 
within  eighteen  months  driven  into  exile  and  called  to 
witness  the  massacre  of  her  son  by  the  angry  populace 
he  had  lived  to  serve.  Rogers  himself,  Talleyrand,  and 
Lafayette  were  almost  the  only  men  whose  names  occur 
in  this  chapter  who  lived  to  see  any  approach  to  the 
rearing  of  that  *  stable  and  commodious  structure  of 
freedom '  which  Dr.  Moore  hoped  the  French  would  in  a 
little  time  bring  to  perfection.  The  whole  political  life 
of  Rogers's  Whig  friends  in  1791,  with  the  exception  of 
Richard  Sharp,  was  spent  under  the  cloud  of  public 
disfavor  and  discouragement  which  settled  down  on  all 
political  movements  that  seemed  to  look  in  the  direction 
of  popular  enfranchisement.  It  was  not  till  the  time 
of  the  great  Reform  Bill  that  the  English  people  fully 
recovered  from  the  frightful  apprehension  that  triumphs 
of  philosophy  and  the  free  spirit  of  man  over  tyranny 
and  debasing  prejudices,  to  use  Dr.  Moore's  words, 
might  lead  in  England,  as  they  had  led  in  France,  to  a 
Reign  of  Terror. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Helen  Williams.  —  Conversation  at  her  House.  —  Merry  and  tlie  Delia 
Cruscans.  —  Journey  through  Wales,  1791.  —  Mrs.  Barbauld's 
Letter.  —  Visit  to  Dr.  Parr,  1793. 

The  memorable  visit  to  revolutionary  Paris  was  only  one 
of  the  events  of  this  year  which  Eogers  has  left  on  record. 
On  his  return  to  London  in  the  latter  part  of  February, 
he  naturally  resumed  his  morning  journeys  from  Stoke 
Newington  to  the  banking-house  in  Freeman's  Court. 
On  one  of  these  daily  journeys  an  event  happened  of 
which  he  often  spoke  to  his  friends  with  some  emotion. 
Mr.  Dyce  reports  it  in  the  '  Table  Talk '  in  his  usual  bald 
and  half-remembered  manner ;  but  the  best  and  most  vivid 
account  is  given  in  the  postscript  to  a  letter  addressed 
by  the  Rev.  John  Mitford  of  Benhall  to  the  '  Gentleman's 
Magazine,'  soon  after  Rogers's  death. i  Mr.  Mitford  him- 
self, in  the  letter,  illustrates  the  premature  confidence 
with  which  some  of  Rogers's  friends  spoke  and  wrote 
about  him,  by  expressing  the  opinion  that  Rogers  had 
left  no  diaries  behind  him.  In  the  postscript  Mr.  Mit- 
ford says : — 

'The  last  drive  I  ever  took  with  Mr.  Rogers  in  his 
chariot  was  one  often  previously  made  by  us  into  the 
City,  to  pay  one  of  his  regular  calls  on  his  oldest  friend, 
Mr.  William  Maltby  of  the  London  Institution,  who  had 
been  his  schoolfellow  more  than  eighty  years  previous  to 
this  time,  and  who  died  a  year  or  two  before  him,  nearly 
at  the  same  age.     In  returning  by  the  City   Road,  he 

1  Gentleman's  Magazine,  vol.  xlv.  p.  147. 


JOHN  WESLEY  LYING  IN  STATE.  143 

pulled  the  check-string  opposite  to  the  Bunhill  Fields 
Burial-ground,  and  then  desired  me  to  get  out  and  read 
the  inscription  on  the  stone  which  stands  conspicuously 
over  the  grave  of  the  well-known  Thomas  Hardy.  This 
being  done,  he  said :  "  You  see  that  little  chapel  opposite ; 
go  and  look  carefully  at  the  house  which  stands  there 
to  the  left  of  it,  and  then  come  back  and  get  in."  This 
all  duly  performed,  and  again  seated  side  by  side,  he 
said :  "  When  I  was  a  young  man  in  the  banking-house, 
and  my  father  lived  at  Newington,  I  used  every  day  in 
going  into  the  City  to  pass  by  this  place.  One  day  in 
returning  I  saw  a  number  of  respectable  persons  of  both 
sexes  assembled  here,  all  well  dressed  in  mourning,  and 
with  very  serious  look  and  behavior.  The  door  of  the 
house  was  open,  and  they  entered  it  in  pairs.  I  thought 
that,  without  impropriety,  I  might  join  them ;  so  we  all 
walked  upstairs,  and  came  to  a  drawing-room  in  the 
midst  of  which  was  a  table ;  on  this  table  lay  the  body 
of  a  person  dressed  in  a  clergyman's  robes,  with  bands, 
and  his  gray  hair  shading  his  face  on  either  side.  He 
was  of  small  stature,  and  his  countenance  looked  like  wax. 
We  all  moved  round  the  table,  some  of  the  party  much 
affected,  with  our  eyes  fixed  on  the  venerable  figure  that 
lay  before  us ;  and  as  we  moved  on,  others  came  up  and 
succeeded  in  like  manner.  After  we  had  gone  the  round 
of  the  table  in  our  lingering  procession  we  descended  as 
we  came.  The  person  that  lay  before  us  was  the  cele- 
brated John  Wesley,  and  at  the  earnest  request  of  his 
congregation,  they  were  permitted  to  take  this  pathetic 
and  affectionate  farewell  of  their  beloved  pastor."  ' 

Wesley  died  on  the  2d  of  March,  1791.  Southey 
does  not  mention  this  lying-in-state  in  the  house  in  the 
City  Koad,  but  only  records  that  on  the  day  before  the 
funeral  the  body  was  carried  into  the  chapel,  *and  there 
lay  in  a  kind  of  state  becoming  the  person,  dressed  in 


144  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

his  clerical  habit,  with  gown,  cassock,  and  band ;  the  old 
clerical  cap  on  his  head,  a  Bible  in  one  hand,  and  a 
white  handkerchief  in  the  other.'  The  crowds  that 
flocked  to  see  him  were  so  great  that  the  funeral  was 
accelerated,  and  took  place  between  five  and  six  in  the 
morning.  The  scene  which  Eogers  so  vividly  remem- 
bered, in  which  he  had  been  privileged  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  the  great  man's  face  as  he  lay  dead,  must  have  been 
an  earlier  and  more  private  lying-in-state  than  that 
which  Southey  records.^ 

Two  of  Kogers's  distinctive  characteristics  were  his 
faculty  of  rapid  and  correct  observation  and  his  retentive 
memory.  He  used  to  say  that  Samuel  Boddington,  his 
companion  in  the  visit  to  revolutionary  Paris,  attended  a 
series  of  lectures  on  Memory,  delivered  by  the  Stokes  of 
those  days,  Mr.  Feinaigle,  but  on  being  asked  the  name 
of  the  lecturer,  could  not  recollect  it.  Eogers  was  asked 
why  he  did  not  attend  the  series.  He  answered  that  he 
wished  to  learn  the  art  of  forgetting.  The  remarkable 
volume  of  his  ^Recollections,'  published  by  his  nephew 
Mr.  William  Sharpe  after  his  death,  has  shown  the 
wonderful  power  he  possessed  of  noting  down  the  actual 
words  he  had  heard  in  a  long  conversation.  The  earliest 
illustration  which  his  diaries  contain  of  this  power  of 
reproducing  an  evening's  talk,  is  an  account  of  a  conver- 
sation at  the  house  of  Miss  Helen  Williams.  At  one  of 
her  literary  parties  he  met  Henry  Mackenzie,  whose 
acquaintance  he  had  already  made  in  Edinburgh,  and  a 
number  of  other  men  and  women  of  letters,  some  of 
whom  were  then  famous,  but  are  now  forgotten,  and  one 
or  two  of  whom  were  then  comparatively  unknown,  but 
are  now  familiar  names  after  nearly  a  hundred  years. 

1  Mr.  Dyce  in  the  last  edition  of  his  *  Table  Talk  '  quotes  Mr.  Mit- 
ford's  letter,  and  expresses  the  opinion  that  Rogers's  memory  had 
])layed  him  false.  The  view  I  have  taken  of  the  apparent  discrepancy 
is,  I  think,  far  the  most  likely  to  be  the  true  explanation. 


AT  A  LITERARY  PARTY.  145 

f  April  21,  1791.— At  Miss  Williams's. 

*  Mr.  Mackenzie,  a  man  of  very  mild  and  unassuming 
manners,  was  first  announced,  and  began  upon  Edin- 
burgh. "I  believe,"  said  he,  "conversation  is  more 
cultivated  there  than  here.  In  London  the  ardor  of 
pursuit  is  greater.  The  merchant,  the  lawyer,  and  the 
physician  are  enveloped  in  their  different  professional 
engagements,  but  the  Scotchman  will  retire  early  from 
the  counter  or  the  counting-house  to  lecture  on  Meta- 
physics, or  make  the  grand  tour  of  the  arts  and  sciences. 
I  believe  we  have  a  more  contemplative  turn  than  you, 
and  it  arises  partly  from  a  defect, —  the  little  commerce 
and  agriculture  we  have  among  us.  We  are  also  more 
national,  and  there  is  not  a  laborer  among  us  that  is  not 
versed  in  the  history  of  his  country.  Local  history  is 
what  we  are  particularly  fond  of." 

'  "  I  had  observed  it,"  I  said.  "  Not  a  Highlander  I 
met  but  could  give  me  the  history  of  every  pebble  about 
his  village." 

<  Mr.  Mackenzie  :  "  I  remember  an  innocent  trick  that 
was  once  played  on  an  Englishman.  When  Dr.  Roebuck 
was  riding  in  Scotland,  he  was  assured  by  a  friend  that 
every  peasant  knew  Greek.  '  Let  us  visit,  for  instance, 
that  farmhouse ! '  Dr.  Roebuck  assented.  It  belonged 
to  Wilkie,  the  celebrated  author  of  the  '  Epigoniad,'  and 
he  was  at  work  as  usual  in  the  dress  of  a  laborer.  Dr. 
Roebuck  made  an  observation  on  tillage.  ^Yes,  sir,' 
said  Wilkie,  *but  in  Sicily  there  was  once  a  different 
method,'  and  he  quoted  Theocritus.  Dr.  Roebuck  was 
thunder-struck.  Wilkie  was  an  original  character.  He 
had  conversed  so  long  with  the  ancients  that  he  had  lost 
every  trace  of  the  modern  in  his  composition.  When  he 
paid  Edinburgh  a  visit  at  a  time  that  party  ran  high  on 
some  particular  subject,  he  attacked  the  leading  wits  of 
the  day  in  a  large  circle  with  such  spirit  that  he  set 
them  to  flight,  and  when  his  hearers,  who  were  struck 

10 


146  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

with,  the  uncouthness  of  his  look  and  gesture,  expressed 
their  surprise  at  his  courage  :  ^  Shall  1/  said  he,  *  who 
have  kept  company  so  long  with  Agamemnon,  the  king 
of  men,  shall  I  shrink  from  a  contest  with  such  a  puny 
race?'  But  after  all,"  said  Mr.  Mackenzie,  returning 
to  his  subject,  "  Dr.  Johnson  was  perhaps  right  when  he 
said  of  us  that  every  man  had  a  taste,  and  no  man  a 
bellyful." 

*  "  And  yet  you  will  allow  that  there  are  many  excep- 
tions to  the  last  part  of  the  rule,  sir  ?  "  said  Miss  Baillie, 
a  very  pretty  woman  with  a  very  broad  Scotch  accent. 
"Mr.  Adam  Smith  —  " 

* "  Yes,  ma'am,"  Mr.  Mackenzie  interrupted,  with  a 
warmth  he  seldom  discovered,  "Mr.  Smith  was  an  ex- 
ception. He  had  twice  Dr.  Johnson's  learning  —  who 
only  knew  one  language  well,  the  Latin  —  though  he 
had  none  of  his  affectation  of  it.  He  was  one  of  the 
mildest  and  most  amiable  of  men,  a  good  son,  an  affec- 
tionate brother,  and  a  sincere  friend.  The  last  time  we 
met  was  at  a  club  which  was  held  every  Sunday  evening 
at  his  own  house  (I  had  once  the  pleasure  to  see  you 
there,  sir).^  He  was  very  cheerful,  but  we  persuaded 
him  not  to  sup  with  us,  and  he  said,  about  half-past 
nine,  as  he  left  the  room  :  *  I  love  your  company,  gentle- 
men, but  I  believe  I  must  leave  you  —  to  go  to  another 
world.'  He  died  a  few  hours  after.  Before  I  came  that 
evening  he  had  burned,  with  the  assistance  of  Dr.  Black, 
sixteen  volumes  in  manuscript  on  Jurisprudence  —  the 
sum  of  one  course  of  his  Lectures  at  Glasgow,  as  was 
the  *  Wealth  of  Nations  '  of  another  ;  but  these  had  not 
received  his  last  corrections,  and  from  what  he  had  seen  ^ 
he  had  formed  a  mean  opinion  of  posthumous  publicar 
tions  in  general.  With  a  most  retentive  memory  his 
conversation  was  solid  beyond  that  of  any  man.     I  have 

*  See  Rogers's  visit  to  Edinburgh,  p.  85. 


PECULIARITIES  OF  GREAT  MEN.  147 

often  told  him  after  half-an-hour's  conversation  —  *  Sir, 
you  have  said  enough  to  make  a  book/  Dr.  Blair  by 
these  means  introduced  many  of  Adam  Smith's  thoughts 
on  Jurisprudence  into  his  lectures,  but  when  I  told  him 
of  it  —  *  He  is  very  welcome/  said  he,  ^  there  is  enough 
left.' " 

^  I  inquired  after  his  old  servant. 

*  Mr.  Mackenzie :  "  He  was  provided  with  a  place  in 
the  Custom  House  at  the  request  of  everybody.  Mr. 
Smith  left  the  bulk  of  his  fortune  to  his  nephew,  a  very 
clever  young  man.  But  perhaps  the  Scotch  cannot  claim 
him  entirely,  for  he  received  part  of  his  education  at 
Oxford." 

^During  this  conversation  came  Dr.  Cadogan,  Mr. 
Jerningham,  Dr.  Baillie,  and  Cadell  with  his  daughter. 
Tea  now  walked  in,  and  drew  a  disquisition  on  its 
merits  from  Dr.  Cadogan.  Dr.  Johnson's  immoderate 
love  of  it  was  mentioned,  and  the  remark  brought  him 
again  upon  the  carpet.  Lord  Monboddo's  contempt  of 
his  Dictionary  was  mentioned.  Mr.  Seward  (who  now 
introduced  Mr.  Merry,  a  very  genteel,  handsome  man) 
said  he  had  silenced  him  with  quoting  James  Harris's 
high  opinion  of  it,  and  that  when  somebody  had  given 
Johnson  a  list  of  its  imperfections  —  "  Are  those  all  ?  " 
said  he :  "I  thought  there  had  been  a  thousand  more." 
Mr.  Mackenzie  said  Johnson's  greatest  fault  was  in  re- 
jecting every  word  from  the  Saxon. 

^  As  the  tea  went  round,  the  sugar  suggested  the  slave- 
trade  and  the  late  debate. 

*  Dr.  Cadogan  thought  it  the  most  disgraceful  evening 
ever  spent  by  the  House  of  Commons. 

'  Mr.  Mackenzie  thought  the  immediate  abolition  dan- 
gerous in  its  consequences  in  the  islands.  So  did  Dr. 
Baillie  and  Mr.  Cadell.  Mr.  Cadell  said  a  whole  people 
was  not  chargeable  with  any  solitary  acts  of  cruelty,  and 
instanced  a  late  case  of  a  chimney-sweeper's  apprentice. 


148  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

*  Mr.  Mackenzie :  "  You  should  consider  not  the  act 
itself,  but  its  impression  on  the  minds  of  the  people. 
An  English  mob  would,  I  doubt  not,  massacre  the  chimney- 
sweeper in  a  moment  j  but  I  fear  the  Jamaica  people  view 
barbarity  with  unconcern." 

<  Mr.  Merry  said  he  believed  it  indeed,  and  he  blushed 
for  his  country. 

'  The  company  then  rose  up  to  read  a  small  poem  of  Mr. 
Day's,  of  which  Mr.  Seward  proposed  an  emendation  — 

"  Turns  on  his  hunters  and  then  vaUant  falls." 

'  There  were  different  opinions ;  and  different  groups 
were  formed.  Mr.  Jerningham  asked  me  concerning  the 
fate  of  Mr.  Merry's  play.  I  fear,  said  he,  that  his  style 
is  too  artificial  for  tragedy. 

^  In  another  place  stood  Dr.  Moore,  Mr.  Merry,  and 
Cadell  on  Boswell  and  Johnson  and  Piozzi;  and  in 
another  stood  Seward  and  Mackenzie  and  Dr.  Kippis  in 
judgment  on  the  poem.  Mr.  Mackenzie  said  that  Robert 
Burns  had  lately  written  a  beautiful  poem  in  Scotch, 
called  the  "Kirk  of  Alloa." ^  It  fell  flat  towards  the 
conclusion. 

*Mr.  Mackenzie:  "The  same  young  man  who  wrote 
the  German  tragedy  mentioned  in  the  Edinburgh  Trans- 
actions, has  since  published  another,  full  of  uncommon 
merit  and  more  regular,  the  last  scene  particularly 
striking.  A  nobleman's  son  in  love  with  a  musician's 
daughter  is  induced  by  his  father,  who  is  an  enemy  to 
the  match,  to  think  her  false,  and  in  a  frenzy  he  stabs 
her.  Her  innocence  then  appears,  and  he  stabs  his 
father  and  himself.  The  German  works  appear  to  great 
disadvantage  here,  as  they  are  translated  from  the  French 
only,  which  is  very  bad,  the  translators   gliding  over 

1  This  is  *  Tarn  o'  Shanter.'  It  was  written  for  Captain  Grose  in 
return  for  a  drawing  of  Alloway  Kirk,  and  published  in  Grose's 
*  Antiquities  of  Scotland.' 


DR  JOHNSON'S  PUN.  149 

every  difficulty.  I  have  learned  a  little  German  since 
that  paper  of  mine  appeared,  and  I  am  now  struck  with 
their  tragedies  particularly,  though  the  unities  are  not 
observed." 

*  I  said,  only  one  of  those  was  of  consequence,  —  unity 
of  character. 

^  Mr.  Mackenzie :  "  Mr.  Smith  wrote  a  charming  piece 
on  that  subject  in  a  periodical  paper  at  Glasgow,  in 
which  Lord  Loughborough  engaged,  but  which  was  soon 
dropped,  the  parties  being  discovered." 

*  Mr.  Jerningham  inquired  after  Dr.  Beattie. 

'Mr.  Mackenzie  said  his  spirits  were  naturally  low, 
and  were  now  still  lower  from  family  affliction,  the  con- 
finement of  his  wife,  and  the  death  of  his  son.  He  then 
adverted  to  Lord  Monboddo.  He  is  a  friend  of  the  slave 
trade  because  the  ancients  encouraged  it.  He  bathes 
every  morning  in  a  cold  and  a  hot  bath,  and  afterwards 
anoints  himself  because  they  did  so. 

*"Ay,"  said  Mr.  Seward,  "I  remember  that  circum- 
stance drew  a  pun  from  Johnson,  notwithstanding  his 
aversion  to  puns.  'That  man  of  Grease,'  said  he.  I 
laughed  at  it,  and  he  affected  to  be  angry,  and  said  he 
did  not  intend  a  pun." 

'Mr.  Mackenzie:  "When  I  congratulated  him  [Lord 
Monboddo]  on  his  recovery  from  a  fever,  he  assured  me 
it  was  not  one  of  your  modern  nervous  fevers  but  a  true 
Roman  fever,  a  burning  fever.  He  complains  that  the 
present  race  have  no  voice  now  he  grows  deaf,  and  often 
desires  the  barristers  to  speak  up." 

'  Mr.  Seward :  "  He  is  come  to  town  partly  to  buy  an 
orang-outang,  that  he  may  take  him  to  Edinburgh  and 
teach  him  to  talk  and  think." 

'  Mr.  Mackenzie :  "  He  has  been  often  imposed  upon 
with  baboons  which  have  passed  for  that  species,  particu- 
larly with  one  which  had  been  taught  to  walk  with  a 
stick  and  was  afterwards  shown  in  Edinburgh." 


150  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

*  I  observed  that  Lord  Monboddo  had  that  day  se'en- 
night  asserted  that  no  man  in  the  House  of  Commons 
could  make  or  deliver  a  period  but  Mr.  Pitt,  and  no  man 
recite  Milton  but  the  Lord  Chancellor. 

^  Dr.  Kippis :  "  He  is  a  great  enemy  to  short  sen- 
tences, but  he  is  wrong  in  his  notion  of  the  sentence  of 
the  ancients.'*' 

*  Mr.  Mackenzie :  "  His  admiration  of  Milton  is  now 
so  high,  that  he  begins  to  think  it  unintelligible  to  the 
vulgar.  He  once  set  Macklin  to  read  it,  but  found  so 
much  fault  with  him,  that  he  threw  the  book  to  his 
lordship  saying,  '  Do  read  it  yourself.'  He  admires  Mrs. 
Siddons,  but  does  not  think  she  does  justice  to  Milton. 
He  once  saw  her  act  the  lady  in  Comus." 

'The  circle  now  contracted  to  Mr.  Jerningham,  Mr. 
Merry,  Mr.  Seward,  Dr.  Moore,  the  ladies,  and  myself. 

'  Mr.  Merry  said  he  should  pass  the  summer  in  France, 
and  that  he  knew  Madame  de  Condorcet.  Asked  me  if 
I  had  ever  played  at  a  kind  of  question  and  answer  at 
her  house  with  the  Abbe  Sieyes.  Mentioned  also  another 
game  similar  to  our  blind-man's-buff.  He  said  Con- 
dorcet's  house  was  charmingly  seated  on  the  Seine,  of 
which  I  knew  nothing,  as  I  had  paid  my  visits  there  at 
night. 

*Mr.  Jerningham  asked  me  doubtingly  if  Paris  was 
quiet. 

'Mr.  Merry  said  he  had  walked  at  midnight  to  his 
lodgings  from  the  Palais  Eoyal  frequently  with  no 
alarm. 

'  I  said  I  admired  Madame  de  Condorcet,  and  that  if 
I  left  England  again  it  would  be  with  Sir  Charles  Gran- 
dison's  resolution  to  form  no  attachment. 

'  Mr.  Merry :  "  Sir  Charles  is  translated  into  Italian  and 
universally  laughed  at  by  the  Italian  ladies,  among  whom 
there  are  no  Clementinas.  Sir  Charles  wore  a  wig,  and 
the  coach  and  six  are  continually  coming  in.    Do  you 


ACTORS  AND  ACTING.  151 

remember  Sir  Charles's  wig  ?  Lovelace's  wig  fell  off  in 
a  most  affecting  situation.  Wig-stealing  was  once  a  very 
lucrative  profession,  when  wigs  sold  for  fifty  pounds 
apiece.  Many  a  man  has  had  his  wig  snatched  off, 
when  he  put  his  head  out  of  the  coach  window  to 
speak  to  his  coachman." 

'Mr.  Jerningham  said  Kichardson  was  ridiculed  at 
Florence  when  he  was  there. 

'  Dr.  Moore  mentioned  Voltaire's  contempt  of  Clarissa, 
who  thought  Tomlinson  and  —  which  was  the  good  char- 
acter ?     "  Lovelace,"  said  Merry  —  a  laugh. 

*  Miss  Williams  said  that  Mrs.  Siddons  read  Clarissa 
at  Streatham  last  autumn  for  the  first  time,  and  w^as 
much  struck  with  it. 

*  Mr.  Merry  asked  if  she  felt  on  the  stage.  I  said  she 
had  assured  me  she  did. 

'  Dr.  Moore :  "  It  is  impossible.  Good  acting  requires 
a  cool  judgment  and  a  clear  memory.  It  is  not  acting 
your  own  part  but  another's.  What  a  burden  must 
so  many  different  characters  be  to  the  memory !  Yet 
an  old  actor  will  forget  his  lesson  of  last  night,  and 
learn  another  for  this  evening,  as  easily  as  you  can 
change  your  clothes.  What  is  very  singular,  they  never 
want  more  than  their  part  of  the  dialogue." 

'  The  conversation  now  turned  upon  feeling. 

'  Dr.  Moore :  "  We  are  struck  differently  by  the  same 
thing.  <  I  remember,'  says  Kousseau, '  a  fine  picture  by  Le 
Sueur;  the  subject,  Alexander  drinking  the  physic  pre- 
scribed by  Philip,  at  the  same  time  that  he  puts  a  letter 
into  that  physician's  hand,  — a  letter  which  accuses  him  of 
an  intention  to  poison  him.  Everybody  was  struck  with 
the  piece,  but  particularly  a  boy  who  shuddered  at  the 
sight.  Upon  being  questioned  concerning  the  reason, 
he  said  it  was  to  think  that  he  could  drink  so  black  a 
dose.' " 

*  Mr.  Jerningham  took  his  leave,  ai;4  it  was  obsei"- 


152  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

that  he  was  aristocratic,  though  one  of  his  brothers  who 
lived  at  Naples  has  been  obliged  to  leave  it  on  account 
of  the  freedom  of  his  language. 

^Mr.  Seward:  "Mrs.  Montagu,  too,  is  an  aristocrat 
and  a  friend  to  the  slave  trade.  But  I  suspect  her  of 
art.  She  has  often  diverted  me  with  instances  of  Dr. 
Price's  simplicity." 

*  I  said  Mrs.  Montagu  was  a  composition  of  art.  She 
has  so  long  been  attached  to  the  trick  and  show  of  life, 
as  Mrs.  Piozzi  expressed  it  of  her,  that  she  has  no  taste 
for  the  simplicity  of  a  great  mind.  The  genuine  soul  of 
nature  has  forsaken  her.^ 

' "  What  a  beautiful  expression  is  that  of  Paine ! " 
said  Mr.  Merry ;  and  the  next  —  "  His  hero  or  his  heroine 
must  be  a  tragedy  victim,"  etc.  —  and  again  "  We  have 
dropped  our  baby-clothes  and  breeched  ourselves  in 
manhood."     He  seemed  a  warm  admirer  of  Paine. 

*0n  the  feeling  of  actors  Mr.  Seward  observed  that 
Garrick  affected  to  feel  his  part  deeply,  and  that  one 
night  when  Johnson  spoke  loud  between  the  scenes, 
Garrick,  who  was  acting  Richard,  cried  out,  "  Don't  talk 
so  loud,  you  disturb  my  feelings  ! "  "  Pooh ! "  said  John- 
son, "  can  Ponch  [as  he  pronounced  it  always]  feel  ?  " ' 

The  Mr.  Seward  mentioned  in  the  above  conversa- 
tion was  not  the  Eev.  Mr.  Seward  of  Lichfield,  the  father 
of  Miss  Seward  the  poetess,  a  man  whom  Johnson  de- 

1  This  wa.s  not  the  general  opinion  respecting  Mrs.  Monta^n, 
though  it  is  a  most  striking  circumstance  that  two  observers  like 
Mackenzie  and  Rogers  should  have  agreed  in  it.  Lord  Bath,  as  we 
learn  from  a  note  of  Croker's,  said  of  Mrs.  Montagu  that  he  did  not  be- 
lieve a  more  perfect  human  being  was  ever  created.  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds repeated  the  words  to  Bnrke  with  the  observation  that  Lord  Bath 
could  not  have  said  more.  *  And  I  do  not  think  that  he  said  a  word 
too  much/  was  Burke's  reply.  Rogers  knew  Mrs.  Montagu  in  her  old 
age.  She  was  more  than  seventy  when  this  conversation  at  Miss 
Williams's  took  place,  and  she  died  in  1800  at  the  age  of  eighty. 


WM.   SEWARD  AND   ROBT.   MERRY.  153 

scribed  as  having  the  ambition  to  be  a  fine  talker,  and  as 
going  to  Buxton  and  such  places  where  he  might  find 
companies  to  listen  to  him.  It  was  Mr.  William  Seward, 
F.R.S.,  of  whom  Johnson  had  spoken  in  a  letter  to  Bos- 
well  in  1777  as  a  great  favorite  at  Streatham,  who 
had  edited  a  book  entitled  ^  Anecdotes  of  Distinguished 
Persons.^  Boswell  acknowledges  indebtedness  to  him  for 
several  communications  concerning  Johnson.  He  was 
forty-four  at  the  time  of  the  above  conversation,  and 
died  eight  years  later,  in  1799.  Eobert  Merry  is  chiefly 
remembered  as  one  of  the  writers  attacked  by  Gilford  in 
the  *Baviad'  and  the  ^Mseviad.'  He  was  the  Delia 
Crusca  of  Gilford's  preface.  He  had  been  educated  at 
Harrow  and  Christ's  College,  Cambridge ;  had  studied 
for  the  bar,  and  then  joined  the  army  as  an  officer  in  the 
Guards.  Having  gone  to  Florence,  where  a  group  of 
British  poetasters  were  writing  poems  to  one  another  in 
the  ^  Florence  Miscellany,'  he  entered  into  the  scheme, 
and  on  his  return  to  England  became  one  of  the  leaders 
of  a  school.  With  curious  appropriateness  they  took 
their  name  from  the  Delia  Cruscan  Academy  in  Florence, 
—  a  Society  formed  in  1582  to  winnow  the  chaff  from  the 
Italian  language  and  leave*  the  pure  wheat  behind.  The 
English  Delia  Cruscans  were  chaff  without  grain,  bran 
with  the  least  possible  admixture  of  flour:  the  mere 
refuse  the  signature  Delia  Crusca  implied.  Yet  for  a 
moment  they  met  the  public  taste.  Macaulay,  in  his 
'Essay  on  Byron,'  speaks  of  them  as  signs  that  a  literary 
revolution  was  at  hand.  *  There  was  a  ferment'  —  he 
tells  us  —  4n  the  minds  of  men,  a  vague  craving  for 
something  new,  a  disposition  to  hail  with  delight  any- 
thing that  might  at  first  sight  wear  the  appearance  of 
originality.'  Hence  the  temporary  success  of  writers 
now  utterly  forgotten.  *  Anything  which  could  break  the 
dull  monotony  of  the  correct  school  was  acceptable.' 
*  Macpherson  and  Delia  Crusca  were  to  the  true  reformers 


154  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

of  English  poetry  what  Knipperdoling  was  to  Luther  or 
Clootz  to  Tiirgot.'  1  The  Delia  Cruscans  were  the  Spas- 
modics  of  their  time.  Gifford  in  the  *Baviad'  speaks 
of  'Merry's  Moorfields  ^  whine/  and  rhymes  it  with 
<  Greathead's  idiot  line.'    In  the  *  Mseviad '  he  writes  : 

* ,  .  .  while  Merry  and  his  nurslings  die, 
Thrill'd  with  the  liquid  peril  of  an  eye, 
Gasp  at  a  recollection,  and  drop  down 
At  the  long  streamy  lightning  of  a  frown.* 

Mr.  Jerningham's  criticism  of  Merry's  play  that  his 
style  was  too  artificial  for  tragedy  was  the  gentle  view 
of  one  of  his  friends.  Mr.  Jerninghara  was  himself  one 
of  the  Delia  Cruscans.     Gifford  writes :  — 

*  See  snivelling  Jerningham  at  fifty  weep 
O'er  lovelorn  oxen  and  deserted  sheep,* 

and  speaks  of  him  as  *a  gentleman  with  the  physio- 
gnomic d'un  mouton  qui  reve.'  He  pours  worse  con- 
tempt on  Este  and  Topham,  the  parson  and  captain  who 
between  them  edited  'The  World,'  and  who  were  lit- 
erary arbiters  in  the  days  when  Gifford  was  beating  pieces 
of  leather  smooth,  and  working  problems  on  them  with 
a  blunted  awl.  Kogers  used  to  say  that  he  felt  great 
pleasure  when  told  that  Este  had  said  of  him :  '  A  child 
of  Goldsmith,  sir;'  and  that,  as  reader  at  Whitehall, 
Este  read  the  service  so  beautifully  that  Mrs.  Siddons 
used  to  go  to  the  Chapel  Royal  to  listen  to  his  elocution. 
Gifford's  lash  fell  on  this  school  in  1794  and  1796,  and 
scattered  it  to  the  winds.  Merry  went  to  America,  and 
Este  died  insane. 

Eogers  was  now  in  his  twenty-eighth  year,  and  was 
quietly  at  work  in  most  of  his  leisure  hours  polishing 

1  Essays,  vol.  ii.  pp.  334,  335. 

*  The  gresit  Bethlehem  Hospital  —  the  Bedlam  of  popular  tradition 
—  stood  in  Moorfields. 


JOURNEY  THROUGH  WALES.  155 

his  second  poem  to  perfection.  Yet  his  life  seems  to  have 
been  so  full  of  business,  visiting,  and  travel,  that  there 
was  little  space  left  for  serious  work.  His  health  was 
still  weak,  and  he  was  advised  to  take  exercise  on  horse- 
back. During  the  eai'ly  summer  of  this  year,  1791,  he 
made  a  journey  in  this  fashion  through  a  great  part  of 
Wales.  His  quick  observation  and  retentive  memory 
have  enabled  him  to  hand  down  some  valuable  sketches 
of  South  Wales  as  it  was  in  the  days  of  our  great- 
grandfathers. 

The  diary  of  this  journey  is  broken  into  two  parts, 
the  first  extending  from  the  17th  to  the  30th  of  June, 
and  the  second  from  the  19th  to  the  22d  of  July.  The 
volume  containing  the  intervening  period  has  probably 
been  lost.  The  entries  chiefly  consist  of  descriptions  of 
the  scenery;  but  there  are  now  and  then  glimpses  of 
contemporary  manners  and  of  passing  events.  He  be- 
gins by  noting  the  solitude  of  the  London  streets  at  four 
in  the  morning,  which  was  the  hour  of  starting,  and 
anticipates  a  common  remark  of  travellers  in  these  days 
of  railways,  by  saying  that  the  rapidity  of  a  stage- 
coach allows  no  time  for  observation,  so  that  the  archi- 
tecture of  an  Adam  or  the  statuary  of  a  Damer,  Sion 
Gate,  and  the  Keystone  of  Henley  Bridge  were  equally 
unnoticed.  He  says  that  Abingdon  market-place,  and 
Fairford  church,  where  he  probably  stopped  to  see  the 
wibdows,  left  pleasing  traces  on  his  memory.  ^  In  the 
evening  walked  in  the  classic  park  of  Lord  Bathurst.' 
The  day's  stage  seems  therefore  to  have  been  from  Lon- 
don, by  way  of  Henley  and  Abingdon,  to  Cirencester. 
The  next  day  he  'rode  with  the  keeper  through  Lord 
Bathurst's  woods  and  saw  a  favorite  seat  of  Pope,*  and 
then  on  to  Birdlip  Hill,  from  which  the  counties  of 
Worcester,  Hereford,  and  Gloucester  '  spread  like  a  car- 
pet beneath '  him.  Thence  through  a  delicious  country 
to  Ross,  finding  there  a  very  agreeable  and  intelligent 


156  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

apothecary,  Mr.  Pope,  and  sleeping  in  the  house  of  the 
'  Man  of  Eoss.'  The  diary  next  day  records  a  row  upon 
the  river. 

^19th.  —  Left  Koss  at  ten  in  a  small  boat  with  two 
cars.  The  church  bells  chimed  most  musically,  and  the 
sound  came  floating  among  the  hills  down  the  river  long 
after  the  spire  had  disappeared.  Passed  under  the 
bridge,  and  in  a  few  minutes  saw  Wilton  Castle  just 
above  us  on  a  green  bank  on  the  left,  its  round  tower  and 
grated  window  mantled  with  ivy.  These  ruins  have  no 
majesty,  but  they  are  very  soothing,  and  strike  the  mind 
as  a  first  object.  A  little  line  of  cottages  lies  below  them, 
—  the  village  of  Wilton.  Glided  down  the  stream  under 
a  sedgy  shore  on  the  right,  the  left  fringed  with  willows, 
and  on  the  surface  of  the  water  floated  white  flowers, 
here  called  greeds.  .  .  .  Eoss  spire  continually  sinks  and 
rises  to  the  eye  of  the  voyager,  and  the  river,  having 
formed  a  noble  curve,  now  returns  almost  up  to  it.  A 
walk  from  the  churchyard,  called  Kyrle's  Walk,  runs 
down  to  a  summer-house  which  here  overlooks  the  river. 
A  very  steep  and  rich  eminence,  intersected  with  hedge- 
rows, among  which  are  several  cottages  and  a  little  farm- 
house called  Weir-end,  with  its  appendages  —  a  barn,  a 
poultry-yard,  and  a  haystack  —  now  presents  itself,  but 
soon  sinks  to  the  left,  and  is  succeeded  by  the  humble 
village  of  Groson,  a  cluster  of  thatched  huts  by  the 
waterside,  with  their  hanging  gardens  and  a  succession 
of  green  enclosures  ascending  rapidly  above  them.  Be- 
fore the  most  conspicuous  of  these  huts  lay  several  loose 
and  newly-felled  trunks  of  trees,  and  a  vessel  lay  moored 
near  the  spot.  The  boatman  dignified  it  with  the  name 
of  a  timber-yard.  So  far  the  scene  had  never  risen  above 
the  simple  and  humble  style  of  pastoral  beauty,  but  its 
character  soon  changed.  In  front,  and  sweeping  round 
to  the  right,  a  superb  amphitheatre  of  wood  and  pasture 


DOWN  THE  WYE.  157 

unfolded ;  the  Friary,  a  little  farm  half  discovering  itself 
near  the  summit ;  and  on  the  left,  near  the  base,  Good- 
rich Castle,  with  its  towers  and  battlements,  gave  a 
glimpse  of  the  grandeur  which  soon  burst  upon  us.  .  .  . 
Landed  at  the  ferry,  and,  crossing  a  meadow,  ascended 
through  a  glade  of  ancient  elms  to  the  ruin.  The  port- 
cullises, the  pointed  windows,  the  round  towers  were 
hung  with  large  masses  of  ivy.  The  structure  in  its 
present  state  is  very  extensive.  Elm  and  ash  trees  of 
considerable  height  have  taken  possession  of  its  internal 
courts.  The  daws  were  very  clamorous  at  our  intrusion, 
and  a  white  owl  fluttered  from  the  fractured  mouldings 
of  a  window.  The  view  from  it  in  front  is  very  rich 
and  extensive.  Directly  in  front,  and  not  above  two 
miles  off,  is  Koss  spire,  with  the  Chase,  a  long  woody 
ridge,  in  the  background.  Behind  are  hanging  meadows. 
Keturned  to  the  boat.  In  our  course  we  continually 
passed  the  fisher,  with  his  wicker  basket  on  his  back, 
angling  for  salmon-fry  and  grayling  knee-deep  in  the 
water.  The  left  bank,  which  had  as  yet  been  low,  be- 
came now  very  steep,  with  cottages  perched  one  above 
another,  half  sheltered  with  wood,  and  often  discovered 
only  by  the  blue  wreaths  of  smoke  that  ascended  from 
them.  One  of  the  most  observable  was  a  basket-maker's. 
In  his  little  garden,  which  was  almost  a  precipice,  hung 
linen  to  dry  on  a  line,  and  his  threshold  was  strewed 
with  heaps  of  rushes  in  the  sun.  Everything  wore  the 
face  of  cheerful  industry.  Passed  a  fisherman's,  hut, 
which  had  a  very  fresco  appearance  behind  a  clump  of 
trees.  A  brown  pitcher  had  been  left  on  the  landing- 
place,  and  against  the  bank  rested  a  coracle,  a  small 
leathern  boat.  The  man  mentioned  by  Gilpin,  who  navi- 
gated the  Wye  and  reached  the  Bristol  Channel  in  one 
of  these  vessels,  was  Luke  Hughes.  Near  Bristol,  a  mile 
beyond  the  river's  mouth,  he  was  hailed  by  the  king's 
yacht  stationed  there,  the  crew  thinking  that  he  floated 


158  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

on  a  cask.  He  went  on  board,  and  was  made  welcome, 
but  returned  to  his  nutshell.  From  either  hand  shoots 
up  a  high  promontory.  On  the  left  is  a  chain  of  orchards, 
the  apple-trees  twisting  into  a  thousand  forms,  with 
beautiful  cows  grazing  on  the  shore.  Pass  on  the  right 
the  coal  wharf  at  Lidbrook,  a  busy  scene,  but  properly 
softened  down  by  the  woods  that  nearly  envelop  it.  On 
the  left  in  a  meadow  a  plain  old  house  called  Courtfield. 
On  this  spot  Henry  V.  is  said  to  have  been  nursed.  An 
ancestor  of  Mr.  Vaughan,  to  whom  it  now  belongs,  kept 
the  ferry-boat  at  Goodrich,  and  when  Henry  IV.  came 
disguised  on  his  way  to  Monmouth,  where  the  queen  lay 
in,  he  first  learned  from  the  ferryman  the  birth  of  his  son 
Henry,  and  was  invited  by  him  with  honest  exultation  to 
drink  at  the  alehouse  kept  there.  The  king  gave  him 
this  estate.  This  is  the  boatman's  tale.  The  little 
church  of  Welsh  Bicknor  to  which  Henry  IV.  gave  gold 
communion  plate,  rose  now  by  the  green  hillside,  with 
yews  in  its  churchyard  and  the  parsonage  built  of  gray 
stone  close  by  it.  Ked  and  blue  cornflowers  fringed  the  op- 
posite bank.  It  was  a  scene  of  great  simplicity.  A  succes- 
sion of  cottages  on  the  left,  with  their  orchards  grazed 
by  horses,  several  of  which  were  standing  in  different 
groups  in  the  water ;  the  water  wagtail  running  and  fly- 
ing along  the  shelving  rocks  on  the  right.  A  blue  vol- 
ume of  smoke  now  spread  itself  over  the  pointed  wood 
which  announced  Cold  well  Rocks.  .  .  .  Here  we  came 
to  anchor,  and  the  boatmen  drawing  water  from  a  fine 
spring  on  the  bank,  which  gives  the  name  to  this  part  of 
the  river,  I  dined  in  full  view  of  this  charming  perspec- 
tive. While  they  were  at  their  repast  I  wandered  half 
a  mile  along  the  river,  till  I  came  directly  opposite  the 
rocks.  Cottages  and  orchards  were  hanging  near  their 
bases;  in  the  centre  was  a  lime-kiln,  into  which  the 
sheep  had  retreated  from  the  sun,  and  not  a  single  sound 
was  heard  but  the  tinkling  of  the  wether's  bell,  when  I 


DOWN  THE   WYE.  169 

was  roused  from  a  delightful  reverie  by  the  appearance 
of  one  of  the  boatmen,  who  immediately  hallooed  to  his 
comrades,  who  were  dispersed  in  pursuit  of  me.  The 
echo  among  the  old  woods  gave  immediate  life  to  the 
scene.  Re-embarked,  and  wound  round  these  majestic 
rocks.  Others  soon  towered  above  the  wood  on  the  left, 
less  bold,  but  correspondent.  The  village  on  the  right  is 
called  Coldnose,  the  sun  seldom  shining  upon  it.  .  .  . 
Landed  here  on  the  opposite  side,  and  half  a  mile  from 
the  spring,  and  was  conducted  by  a  woman  who  showed 
me  her  orchard,  garden,  and  cottage,  in  which  was  a  poor 
solitary  jay  in  a  wicker  basket  up  the  rocks.  She  lived 
by  spinning,  brewed  and  baked  for  herself,  made  her  own 
cider,  and  kept  only  a  few  ducks.  Said  the  cottagers  on 
each  side  often  ferried  over  to  visit  one  another,  that 
winter  was  very  dreary,  but  the  boats  which  passed  in 
summer  were  a  great  amusement  to  them.  Attended  by 
a  little  nephew  and  two  girls  she  led  me  up  a  winding 
path  to  the  green  summit  of  a  projecting  rock  called 
Symond's  Yat,  which  commanded  a  cluster  of  wooded 
hills  in  the  foreground,  the  distant  and  whimsical  wind- 
ings of  the  Wye  and  a  wide  stretch  of  cultivated  country 
fading  away  in  the  blue  and  purple  tints  of  distance. 
Directly  before  us  was  an  immense  hill,  round  which  the 
Wye  made  a  circuit  of  above  three  miles.  Descended, 
and  embarked  at  the  New  Weir,  an  iron  forge,  where  the 
rocks  on  each  side  tower  to  an  immense  height,  often  in 
very  grotesque  forms.  Here  the  river  makes  a  consider- 
able fall,  and  we  descend  by  a  lock.  This  scenery  con- 
tinued about  a  mile,  with  nearly  the  grandeur  of  Matlock 
and  the  solitude  of  Dovedale.  Passed  a  small  house,  the 
greatest  fishery  on  the  river,  with  a  long  shed  to  hang 
the  coracles  in,  and  several  barked  trunks,  on  which  the 
nets  are  spread.  The  coracles  go  down  the  river  two  at 
a  time,  one  on  each  side,  drawing  the  net  along  to  sweep 
the  river.    These  pairs  succeed  each  other  every  ten  min- 


160  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

utes.  The  Dean  Forest  still  hung  on  our  right,  and  we 
now  came  to  what  is  called  Slaughterhouse  Stream,  the 
deer,  many  head  of  which  are  still  in  the  Forest,  having 
been  formerly  shot  here  by  the  bowmen  as  they  came 
down  to  drink.  The  rocks  continued  like  ruined  towers 
mantled  with  ivy  and  brushwood,  till  at  St.  Martin's 
Pool,  where  was  the  deepest  water  in  our  course,  they 
died  away.  .  .  .  Threaded  several  reefs  that  raised  a 
surf  in  the  river,  and  shot  rapidly  by  Dixon  Church,  a 
humble  and  solitary  white  building  on  the  left  shore. 
A  magnificent  wood  now  rose  in  front  and  seemed  to 
preclude  all  further  progress.  As  we  advanced  it  with- 
drew to  the  right,  and  on  the  left  rose  Monmouth  spire. 
The  bridge  and  the  town  above  it  appeared  soon  after- 
wards, and  at  six  in  the  evening  we  concluded  the 
voyage.' 

The  next  day  he  records  a  ride  to  Kaglan,  '  a  beggarly 
village,'  with  a  neat  inn ;  a  visit  to  the  Castle,  '  a  most 
noble  ruin ; '  and  on  to  Usk,  where  there  was  a  village 
fair.  Continuing  his  ride  he  describes  the  view  of  the 
Bristol  Channel  with  the  Steep  and  Flat  Holms  and 
here  and  ther6  a  sail.  At  Newport  —  which  he  describes 
as  *  a  neat  town  on  the  side  of  a  hill,  the  church,  like 
most  others  near  the  coast,  a  conspicuous  landmark '  — 
he  *saw  several  boats  waiting  to  catch  the  coal  at  low 
water  which  is  washed  in  flakes  from  the  mountains.' 
This  was  the  coal  trade  of  Newport  in  1791.  The  jour- 
ney continues  over  the  hills  and  through  the  marsh  to 
Cardiff,  where  he  walks  round  the  Castle  with  ^  a  sensible 
little  fellow,  my  landlord's  son  at  the  *'  Cardiff  Arms."  ' 
Next  day  to  Llandaff,  with  its  ruined  Cathedral,  *  part  of 
it  included  in  the  modern  Cathedral,  a  strange  medley  of 
Grecian  and  Gothic'  Then  on  to  Caerphilly  Castle,  '  less 
picturesque  and  less  perfect  than  Raglan,  but  with  more 
traces  of  magnificence  and  on  an  infinitely  larger  scale ; ' 


WELSH  CUSTOMS.  161 

and  thence  along  the  banks  of  the  Taff  and  over  the  hills 
to  Cowbridge.     On  the  way  — 

*0n  Newbridge  Hill  was  overtaken  by  two  good- 
natured,  pleasant  men  on  one  horse,  who  had  come  from 
a  large  foundry  twelve  miles  from  Pontypridd  —  or 
bridge  built  of  the  earth  —  and  who  accompanied  me 
to  Cowbridge.  From  them  I  learned  several  anecdotes. 
The  Welsh  are  a  very  joyous  social  people.  At  weddings 
they  often  muster  friends  and  relations  to  the  number 
of  fifty  on  horseback;  and  often  make  what  is  called 
"  a  bidding."  Each  gives  a  crown,  or  some  trifle,  to  the 
newly-married  couple,  and  the  sum  has  amounted  to  one 
hundred  pounds.  When  a  family  are  in  distress  there  is 
very  often  "a  pye."  The  good  woman  of  the  house 
makes  a  great  many  pies,  and  on  a  Sunday  a  consider- 
able number  will  meet  and  dine  and  dance,  and  after- 
wards make  her  a  present.  The  relator  of  this  story 
had  often  been  of  the  party.  At  weddings  the  bagpipe 
is  often  played,  as  in  Scotland,  and  at  funerals  the 
church  singers  always  lead  the  procession  with  a  psalm. 
The  women  here  wear  black  beaver  hats,  gowns  of  blue 
or  blue-and-red  check,  which  descend  to  the  knee,  and  a 
blue  or  black  petticoat.  The  men  and  boys  also  wear  a 
jacket  and  often  trousers  of  check.  About  Cardigan  the 
women  wear  wooden  shoes.  The  sudden  drop  they  make 
in  curtseying  and  the  familiar  nod  are  very  diverting. 
From  Easter  to  Whitsuntide  the  peasantry  dance  every 
Saturday  night.  The  clergyman  frequently  translates 
his  text  into  Welsh.  .  .  .  Curacies  are  about  £30  or  £25 
per  annum  here.' 

The  journal  of  the  next  two  days  records  the  continu- 
ation of  the  ride  to  Swansea  and  Carmarthen,  summa- 
rized in  a  letter  to  his  father. 

11 


162  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

S,  Rogers  to  his  Father. 

*  Saturday,  June  25,  [Postmark]  1791. 

*  Dear  Sir,  —  I  received  your  kind  letter  to-day,  as 
well  as  Martha's  enclosing  a  very  long  and  entertaining 
one  from  Mrs.  Piozzi.  She  says  an  account  of  her  little 
fete  will  overtake  me  in  the  newspapers  before  I  reach 
Monmouth,  but  I  have  not  seen  it  in  any  of  them.  All 
I  learn  from  them  is  that  Mr.  Sergeant  Bond  has  with- 
drawn his  name  from  the  list  of  stewards.  I  wrote  to 
you  from  Pill.  Margam  next  morning  gave  me  great 
pleasure,  but  the  orangery  is  in  decay,  and  the  view 
along  the  sea-coast  rather  dreary.  At  Neath,  which  is 
most  charmingly  situated,  there  was  a  fair.  I  dined 
with  the  farmers,  —  as  I  had  done  the  day  before  with 
the  collectors  of  excise  at  Bridgend,  —  and  there  met 
with  a  gentlemanlike,  sensible  young  man,  an  attorney 
from  Swansea.  He  offered  to  ride  over  with  me,  and  as 
I  found  him  to  be  a  man  of  good  character  I  accepted 
this  offer.  He  offered  also  to  go  with  me  to  the  ball 
at  Swansea  in  the  evening,  and  through  him  I  danced 
with  the  surgeon's  wife,  a  very  pretty  woman  about 
twenty  who  has  just  left  the  Quakers.  The  harp  was 
the  principal  instrument.  My  sisters  will  smile  to 
hear  that  I  have  been  kicking  my  heels  at  a  Welsh 
Assembly. 

'  Sir  Herbert  Mackworth's  house  at  Keath  commands 
a  very  beautiful  stretch  of  country,  but  just  before  his 
parlor  windows  he  has  erected  a  steam-engine  and  large 
copper-works.  They  are  actually  on  the  lawn  before  his 
house :  but  if  they  are  a  source  of  profit  he  may  think 
them  the  finest  objects  which  it  commands.  Yesterday 
I  had  a  most  delicious  ride  of  twenty-five  miles  to  Llan- 
dilo,  where  1  saw  the  ruins  of  Carreg  Cennin,  an  impreg- 
nable  fortress,   and   the    fairy    scenes    round   Dynevor 


GLIMPSES  OF  SOUTH  WALES.  163 

Castle.  I  find  that  Mr.  Rice,  the  member  for  the  county 
and  owner  of  this  enchanting  spot,  is  brother-in-law  to 
Mr.  M.  Dorrien.* 

*  To-day  I  made  a  pilgrimage  to  the  top  of  Grongar 
Hill^^  but  a  mizzling  rain  came  on  before  I  had  reached 
it.  I  rode  through  the  delightful  Vale  of  Towy  to 
Carmarthen,  which  was  crowded  with  market  people. 
Welsh  is  everywhere  the  current  language,  and  it  is 
curious  to  hear  children  that  have  just  left  the  cradle 
conversing  in  sounds  that  are  as  unintelligible  to  me  as 
the  Sphinx's  enigma.  I  am  now  on  my  way  to  Tenby, 
where  I  shall  stop  to-morrow.  .  .  . 

*  Sunday,  26th  June. 

*  To-night  I  mean  to  sleep  at  Tenby,  to-morrow  at 
Haverfordwest,  Tuesday  at  St.  David's,  Wednesday  at 
Cardigan,  Thursday  at  Aberystwith,  Friday  at  Dolgelly, 
and  Saturday  at  Carnarvon,  —  at  which  last  town  I  hope 
to  find  a  letter  from  the  Green,  at  farthest,  but  fiatter 
myself  I  shall  hear  sooner.  The  weather  is  now  cold  and 
blustering,  which,  I  find,  agrees  best  with  me.  The  hot 
days  have  prevented  my  making  any  progress.  Pray 
give  my  love  to  all,  and  believe  me  to  be,  dear  Sir, 

*  Your  dutiful  and  affectionate  son, 

'Saml.  Eogers.' 

The  account  in  the  diary  of  Neath  fair  and  the  farmers' 
dinner,  gives  further  glimpses  of  South  Wales  in  the 
days  of  our  great-grandfathers :  — 

*  In  one  street  were  numbers  of  farmers,  etc.,  cantering 
and  trotting  and  walking  horses  of  every  size  and  color 
to  attract  the  notice  of  those  who  came  to  buy  ;  in  another 
was  the  trumpet  sounding  for  the  puppet-show,  with  bas- 

1  The  banker  in  Finch  Lane,  Lombard  Street. 

2  Made  classic  ground  by  John  Dyer's  poem,  published  in  1726. 


164  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

kets  of  gingerbread,  etc.,  carried  by  rosy-cheeked  girls. 
In  another  street  were  booths  for  gloves  and  hats  and 
every  article  of  dress.  Here  stood  an  old  woman  with  a 
roll  of  flannel  under  her  arms,  the  product  of  her  spinning- 
wheel,  and  there  were  baskets  of  fleece  and  goose-wings 
in  abundance.  The  concert  of  voices  in  the  Welsh  lan- 
guage was  very  diverting.  I  think  it  more  sonorous  and 
grand  than  the  Erse.  Heard  a  man  thunder  at  his  cow, 
and  thought  it  had  a  very  philippic  air.  Every  woman 
wore  the  black  hat  and  flannel  check,  which  lasts  three 
or  four  years  in  constant  wear  washed  in  cold  water  with 
but  little  soap.' 

The  dinner  was  with  seven  or  eight  farmers,  and 
their  talk  is  briefly  recorded :  — 

^  Lambs  destroyed  by  bad  land  in  half  an  hour, 
thin  soil  never  to  be  tilled,  fern  strewed  in  a  farm- 
yard the  best  manure,  —  these  were  the  principal  topics. 
Duels  also  had  their  turn,  owing  to  a  late  fray  at  Swan- 
sea between  two  farmers.  A  lusty  man  had  affronted 
a  thin  one,  who  challenged  him.  "No,"  said  he,  "I 
am  too  broad  a  mark,  it  will  be  unfair."  "  Then,"  said 
the  thin  one,  "I  will  stand  close  to  you,  and  my  size 
shall  be  chalked  on  your  body,  and  if  I  don't  hit  within 
the  line  it  shall  go  for  nothing." ' 

He  speaks  of  the  country  on  the  way  to  Swansea  as 
even  then  ^deformed  with  forges.'  At  Swansea  the 
dance  was  at  the  Mackworth  Arms,  and  the  sensible 
attorney's  name  is  given  in  the  diary  as  Mr.  Mansfield, 
and  the  pretty  wife  of  the  surgeon  is  Mrs.  Seycombe, 
described  as  *a  most  beautiful  woman.'  At  Carreg 
Cennin  Castle,  *  a  ruined  citadel,  the  Gibraltar  of  former 
times,'  a  story  was  told  him  illustrative  of  the  popular 
superstitions  of  the  time.  The  young  man  who  con- 
ducted him  over  the  ruins  led  him  — 


CHURCH  AND   VILLAGE  OF  TENBY.  165 

*  back  to  a  cottage  at  the  foot  of  a  rock,  from  which  he 
had  borrowed  a  lantern  to  explore  the  well.  At  the  door 
we  saw  one  old  woman,  who  looked  like  a  "poster  of  the 
sea  and  land."  I  walked  in,  and  pointing  to  a  human 
form  which  sat  in  the  chimney  of  a  dark  room  he  said, 
in  a  low  voice,  that  it  was  that  woman  who  sixteen  years 
ago  lost  her  sight  the  instant  she  looked  on  some  old 
pieces  of  coin  which  she  discovered  at  the  Castle  ;  that 
she  was  driving  the  horses  of  a  plough  when  the  coins 
were  turned  up,  and  that  the  man  who  guided  it  and 
who  pillaged  great  part  of  them  and  took  them  to  a  Jew 
at  Swansea  to  melt  shared  the  same  fate.  He  added 
with  great  seriousness  that  his  father  and  grandfather 
had  told  him  that  several  other  instances  of  the  same 
nature  had  occurred  near  the  Castle.  .  .  .  Near  Carreg 
Cennin  is  a  cavern,  called  in  Welsh  the  "Eyes  of  the 
Kiver  Loughor,"  branching  into  innumerable  others, 
which  branch  some  over  some  under  the  river  which 
issues  quietly  into  day,  but  within  dashes  along  with  the 
noise  of  thunder.  Is  not  this  Merlin's  cave  in  the 
"Faery  Queen"?' 

At  Carmarthen  it  was  market  day,  the  streets  and 
roads  were  crowded,  and  some  of  the  women  on  the  road 
were  walking  barefooted  with  their  shoes  in  their  hands, 
others  moved  briskly  along  knitting  as  they  went.  He 
slept  that  night  at  Tavern  Spite,  a  neat  house  on  a  furzy 
heath,  and  continued  his  journey  in  the  morning,  going 
to  church  on  the  way,  as  it  was  Sunday,  and  hearing 
there  a  good  sermon.  The  church  was  hung  round  with 
flowers.  Tenby  was  reached  in  the  afternoon,  and  his 
description  of  it  as  it  was  in  1791  is  worth  quoting  in 
his  own  words  :  — 

*The  church  and  village  of  Tenby  are  situated  on  a 
low  cliff,  hung  with  ivy  and  other  vegetable  tints.  On 
the  left  the  shore  is  high  and  rocky,  and  a  distant  reach 


166  EAKLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

of  land  projects  into  the  sea  beyond  it,  though  not  equal 
in  grandeur  to  the  mountainous  shore  on  the  lelt  of 
Swansea.  On  the  right,  seated  on  a  small  but  lofty 
promontory  which  is  united  by  a  narrow  isthmus  to  the 
shore,  are  the  ruins  of  a  castle,  half  mantled  with  ivy. 
This  promontory  forms  a  beautiful  bay.  Beyond  it, 
still  farther  to  the  right,  within  two  hundred  yards  is  an 
insulated  rock,  tufted  with  herbage,  on  which  are  the  ruins 
of  a  house  and  where  hung  a  few  goats.  The  rock  is  of 
rich  gamboge  color,  and  through  it  the  waves  have  per- 
forated a  small  archway.  Half  a  league  beyond  this, 
still  farther  to  the  right  behind  the  town,  is  Caldy  Island 
with  a  farmhouse  on  it,  but  with  no  trees.  The  vessels 
in  the  harbor  and  the  offing  gave  cheerfulness  to  the 
scene.  Walked  to  the  Castle  and  saw  a  clergyman  draw- 
ing the  insulated  rock  with  a  camera ;  a  boat  was  rowing 
under  it ;  on  the  extreme  point  of  the  promontory  is  a 
lofty  single  tower  from  which  the  sailors  were  looking  out. 
Walked  by  a  little  path  to  the  cliffs  on  the  opposite  shore 
(the  fashionable  walk)  and  also  on  the  sands.  The  scene 
beautiful  in  every  point  of  view,  the  church  spire  rising 
nearly  in  the  centre,  and  drawing  the  village  to  an  apex. 
From  the  little  by-path  which  connects  the  front  cliff 
with  the  left  is  perhaps  the  best  view.  .  .  .  Tenby  was 
once  very  strong.  The  walls  that  guarded  the  two  sides 
next  the  sea  are  now  nearly  demolished,  but  sufficient 
vestiges  are  left  to  trace  them.  On  the  two  sides  next 
the  land  it  is  guarded  by  a  high  wall  in  perfect  preserva- 
tion, with  strong  round  and  square  towers  at  a  small 
distance  from  each  other,  richly  hung  in  many  parts 
with  ivy.  .  .  .  Walked  again  to  the  Castle ;  the  clergy- 
man was  still  employed  on  his  sketch.  In  the  strait 
below  lay  some  boatmen  on  their  oars,  and  along  the 
perpendicular  sides  of  the  rock  two  sea  boys  of  their 
party  were  chasing  for  diversion  where  I  would  not  have 
stood  for  fifty  worlds.' 


WELSH  TOWNS   AND   VILLAGES.  167 

The  day  at  Tenby  did  not  include  a  visit  to  Giltar 
rocks ;  and  on  the  next  day  Kogers  resumed  his  journey 
over  the  Eidgeway  to  Pembroke.  Thence  the  way  lay 
through  shady  green  lanes  to  the  ferry  across  Mil  ford 
Haven,  on  which  magnificent  sheet  of  water,  ^blue  as 
ultra-marine,'  he  notes  ships  in  full  sail  in  different 
directions  before  the  wind.  On  to  Haverfordwest, — 
'the  largest  town  I  have  yet  seen  in  Wales,  with  the 
dirt  and  gloom  of  a  large  town,'  and  thence  on  towards 
St.  David's.  On  the  way  he  *  was  surprised  to  meet  a 
lady  with  a  veil,  and  a  pretty  woman,  with  an  air  of 
some  elegance,  washing  linen  in  a  rivulet  with  her  bare 
feet,  though  only  two  hovels  were  in  sight.'  He  describes 
St.  David's  as  a  poor  village.  *  Except  two  or  three  neat 
little  houses  belonging  to  the  clergy  of  the  Cathedral,  no 
house  habitable  by  civilized  beings.'  He  had  to  put  up 
at  a  hovel  of  an  inn,  '  the  canon  residentiary,  Mr.  Hol- 
combe,  whose  hospitable  genius  has  raised  a  caravanserai 
in  the  desert,  and  whose  musical  and  elegant  family  gave 
an  air  of  enchantment  to  the  reception  of  the  desolate 
traveller,  being  now  in  London.'  Riding  next  day 
through  the  cornfields  the  larks  were  so  numerous  that 

*  every  stalk  and  ear  of  corn  seemed  full  of  melody. 
Kever  in  my  life  was  I  so  struck  with  their  music.  It 
was  above,  below,  and  around.'  On  the  way  to  Cardigan 
is  the  Castle  of  Cilgerran,  which  was  reached  by  a  boat 
up  the  Towy  Eiver.  At  the  village  near  the  Castle, 
which  was  solely  inhabited  by  fishermen,  were  several 
coracles.  He  measured  one  of  the  smallest  with  his 
handkerchief.  It  was  exactly  the  breadth  of  the  hand- 
kerchief, but  an  inch  more  in  length.  At  one  point  of 
the  voyage  a  fisherman  came  down  with  his  coracle  on  his 
back  and  his  paddle  in  his  hand,  to  go  out  for  the  night. 

*  They  suffer  themselves  to  be  carried  down  by  the  tide, 
and  when  they  wish  to  return  paddle  ashore  and  walk 
home  with  their  vessels  on  their  backs.'    Next  day  he 


168  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

was  '  stopped  by  the  rain  at  three  cottages,  the  first  best, 
the  last  worst  but  cheerful,  with  a  colt  neighing  in  one 
of  its  divisions,  the  second  dark  as  night,  a  spinning- 
wheel  in  each/  A  little  English  was  spoken  in  one  cot- 
tage, none  in  the  other  two.  At  a  wayside  inn,  called 
the  ^  New  Inn '  —  *  was  entertained  by  a  sweet  little  girl 
with  some  Welsh  songs ;  she  had  a  very  pleasing  voice 
and  the  tunes  were  equally  so.  They  were  of  the  cheer- 
ful kind.  Her  elder  sister,  a  very  modest,  reserved, 
pretty  girl,  told  me  that  the  harper  from  Aberystwith 
often  slept  there  in  his  musical  peregrinations  through 
the  country,  and  that  they  sat  up  the  whole  night  to 
listen  to  him.'  On  arriving  at  Aberystwith  itself  *in 
the  hall  of  the  inn  a  poor  blind  girl  was  playing  on  the 
harp  most  exquisitely,  such  airs  as  made  Gray  put  his 
last  hand  to  the  unfinished  ode  of  "  The  Bard.'' ' 

There  are  here  eighteen  days  missing  from  the  journal, 
but  there  is  evidence  that  these  were  spent  in  Central 
and  Northern  Wales.  The  journal  opens  again  on  the 
19th  of  July,  when  he  is  on  the  way  out  of  Herefordshire 
to  Brecknock.  He  is  up  betimes,  making  a  ride  of  sev- 
eral miles  before  breakfast.  One  day  he  is  on  horseback 
by  six  in  the  morning,  the  next  at  half-past  five,  and  the 
shades  of  evening  are  usually  falling  when  he  concludes 
his  day's  wanderings.  The  journey  along  the  road  from 
Leominster  to  Brecknock  is,  at  first,  '  through  a  succes- 
sion of  hop-grounds,  orchards,  and  villages,'  not  partic- 
ularly beautiful  in  themselves,  but  chiefly  so  '  from  the 
ideas  of  cheerfulness  and  comfort  and  plenty  which  were 
everywhere  excited.'  Passing  the  old  hall  of  Kynnersley 
the  road  soon  approaches  the  Wye  — 

*Here  we  were  presented,'  he  says,  'with  a  striking 
image  of  desolation,  the  wreck  of  a  bridge.  It  had  con- 
sisted of  several  arches,  and  had  been  very  elegant,  but 
fell  in  last  spring,  having  had  a  bad  foundation.    Three 


SCENERY  OF  THE  WYE.  169 

of  its  arches  were  still  standing  on  one  side,  but  all  fur- 
ther progress  was  abruptly  broken  off,  and  the  river 
rushed  triumphantly  over  the  shattered  pieces  of  the 
rest.  The  toll-house  on  the  other  side,  the  lane  that  led 
from  it,  and  the  sweeping  approach  all  reminded  us  of 
the  communication  which  now  existed  no  longer.  The 
ferry-boat  was  unfit  for  horses,  and  we  were  obliged  to 
follow  at  some  distance  the  course  of  the  river.  We 
were  soon  rewarded  with  a  beautiful  reach  between 
woody  banks,  and  soon  afterwards  with  another  less 
woody  but  more  extensive  and  distinguished  by  the 
ruins  of  a  castle  on  a  green  eminence  over  the  river. 
"We  had  now  ascended  to  high  ground,  and  presently  saw 
before  us  a  rich  and  extensive  valley,  skirted  by  distant 
mountains  and  disclosing  here  and  there  a  faint  catch  of 
the  Wye  in  its  passage  from  Plinlimmon.  Descended, 
and  by  a  narrow  bridge  entered  The  Hay,  a  long  scattered 
town  on  its  banks,  with  very  fine  woody  hills  behind  it. 
The  old  village-like  church  hangs  beautifully  on  a  green 
knoll  over  the  river,  which  there  makes  a  curve  to  meet 
it.  Above  it  is  a  forlorn  castle,  part  of  which  is  glazed 
and  tenanted.  As  we  left  The  Hay  the  same  chain  of 
hills  with  wood  accompanied  us  on  the  left ;  and  on  the 
right  in  a  delicious  valley  wound  the  Wye,  but  seldom 
an  object  of  sight,  though  its  banks  were  almost  level 
with  its  surface.  Beyond  it  rose  green  and  shady  hills, 
with  hamlets  and  spires  and  scattered  farms  below  them. 
At  the  fourth  stone  the  Wye  made  a  bold  turn  to  the 
right  and  left  us  among  the  hills.  .  .  .  Nothing  could  be 
more  beautifully  retired  than  the  descent  into  Brecknock. 
We  wound  between  woody  declivities,  above  which  in 
front  rose  the  double  tower  of  the  Priory.  On  the  right 
rushed  the  little  river  Honddu  over  mossy  fragments  of 
rock.  In  the  course  of  half  a  mile  we  came  to  a  few 
cottages  and  a  water-mill,  and  presently  we  discovered  a 
rude  stone  arch.    We  then  entered  Brecknock.     From 


170  EAKLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

this  bridge  is  the  most  enchanting  view.  The  eye  is 
carried  up  the  dell  along  the  foaming  current  of  the 
stream,  which  is  closely  fringed  with  shrubwood  and 
darkly  overhung  with  foliage  of  the  freshest  verdure, 
but  of  different  shades.  It  appears  to  work  its  way 
through  the  windings  of  a  wood.  On  the  left,  loftily 
seated  behind  the  trees,  is  the  Priory,  a  noble  Gothic 
structure  now  converted  into  a  church. 

'  Ascended  to  the  Priory  and  pursued  a  delightful  path 
along  the  edge  of  the  woody  precipice  which  overhangs 
the  glen,  the  little  torrent  gleaming  through  the  trees 
below,  and  soothing  the  ear  with  the  dash  of  its  waters. 
Here  and  there  a  humble  hut  stands  solitarily  on  the 
margin  or  hangs  on  the  opposite  declivity,  with  a  little 
cabbage-garden  running  along  a  ledge  of  the  rock,  and 
literally  on  a  level  with  the  ridge  of  its  thatched  roof. 
As  I  proceeded,  the  path  descended  gradually  towards 
the  level  of  the  river,  and  the  glen  along  which  the 
Leominster  road  had  at  first  wound  now  contracted  to 
the  breadth  of  its  current.  At  a  forge  which  is  near  a 
mile  from  the  Priory  this  beautiful  scenery  ended.  In 
a  little  shady  cove,  half-way  down  the  precipice,  and  not 
far  beyond  the  Priory,  a  clear  spring  gushes  out  of  the 
rock  and  falling  over  a  rude  ledge  hurries  down  to  the 
river.  An  oblique  path  through  the  fern  and  shrubwood. 
descends  to  it  on  each  side.  It  is  a  favorite  resort  for 
water.  I  could  have  passed  hours  here  to  observe  the 
children  that  descend  almost  every  minute  into  this 
beautiful  recess.  It  was  once,  according  to  Homer,  the 
occupation  of  king's  daughters,  and,  as  we  are  told  with 
a  beautiful  simplicity  in  Holy  Writ,  the  charms  of 
Rachel  suffered  no  diminution  from  it.  That  golden  age 
is  gone  ;  but  the  visitors  of  a  spring  are  still  interesting 
to  a  contemplative  mind;  the  fair  and  ruddy  complex- 
ions of  the  country,  with  that  simple  and  open  expres- 
sion which  is  soon  lost  in  the  less  retired  walks  of  life, 


VALLEY  OF  THE  USK.  171 

are  to  me  more  interesting  than  the  most  beautiful  scen- 
ery. Their  action  always  pleases  and  is  generally 
graceful  because  it  is  natural  and  unaffected.  I  have 
seen  a  ragged  shepherd  boy,  particularly  near  St. 
David's,  throw  himself  down  in  an  attitude  that  Kaphael 
would  not  have  disdained  to  copy;  and  I  have  often 
stopped,  especially  between  Bala  and  Berwyn,  to  admire 
the  firm  and  graceful  step  of  a  girl  with  a  brown  pitcher 
on  her  head.  A  little  beyond  the  bridge  the  Honddu 
enters  the  Usk,  which  forms  a  semicircle  round  the  ruins 
of  a  castle  which  stands  on  a  rock.  Part  of  the  round 
tower  of  the  citadel  crowns  the  highest  point ;  below  on 
the  other  side  is  the  College,  a  small  Gothic  building 
belonging  to  St.  David's ;  part  of  it  is  employed  as  a 
school-room.  As  I  returned  from  the  forge  to  the  Priory 
had  a  beautiful  glimpse  of  the  valley  and  mountains  over 
the  town.  From  the  Castle  Hill  commanded  the  whole 
valley,  which  is  nearly  circular,  and  but  small,  rounded 
by  green  hills  on  three  of  its  sides,  and  on  the  other, 
opening  to  the  Vale  of  Usk  between  the  foldings  of  the 
mountains.  The  evening  was  close  and  damp,  with  now 
and  then  a  drizzling  rain. 

*  July  20.  —  Set  off  at  half-past  five  —  a  pleasant  gray 
morning  —  and  immediately  entered  the  Vale  of  Usk, 
which  was  at  first  mountainous,  but  afterwards  sank  into 
cultivated  uplands.  On  the  right  side  ran  a  chain  of 
mountains,  sometimes  woody,  sometimes  richly  cultivated. 
Along  the  valley  murmured  the  Usk  in  the  sweetest 
meadows  through  its  fringed  banks,  with  little  farms  and 
villas  scattered  around  it.  It  was  Nature  in  her  neatest 
attire.  About  the  sixth  stone  ascended  from  the  Vale 
behind  a  high  hill,  looking  down  directly  on  the  windings 
of  the  river,  and  commanding  a  rich  review  of  its  progress 
from  Brecknock.  At  the  summit  were  agreeably  sur- 
prised with  the  view  of  another  valley  with  a  small  lake 
(Langor's  Pool)  gleaming  in  the  centre  of  it.    As  we 


172  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

descended  round  the  hill  we  passed  Tretower  Castle,  with 
its  gray  round  tower  and  battlements,  at  the  foot  of  a 
hill,  and  there  re-entered  the  Vale  of  Usk,  the  little  river 
winding  close  to  the  road  which  now  ran  along  the 
middle  of  the  valley.  The  valley  grew  wider,  and  the 
river  still  more  rapid ;  and  considerable  woods  masked 
the  hills  on  the  left.  It  was  diversified  with  noble  pro- 
montories and  insulated  hills,  cultivated  to  the  very 
summit.  The  road  now  regained  the  left  side  and 
taking  a  higher  direction  wound  along  a  green  terrace 
over  the  river,  the  banks  of  which  were  now  indeed 
sometimes  exposed,  but  which  ran  in  a  noble  stream. 
We  here  passed  a  little  bridge  over  a  tributary  stream 
that  turned  a  mill  as  it  entered  the  Usk,  and  soon  came 
to  Crickhowell,  a  village  deliciously  seated  on  a  gentle 
eminence  near  the  Usk,  looking  up  and  down  the  Vale 
for  some  miles.  Here  again  are  the  remains  of  a  cas- 
tle on  the  river,  and  though  not  very  considerable  they 
have  a  beautiful  yellow  tint  and  are  in  good  preser- 
vation. The  Vale  soon  afterwards  contracted  and  grew 
more  woody  and  less  cultivated  as  we  entered  Mon- 
mouthshire, but  a  duskiness,  arising  perhaps  from  the 
heat,  spread  itself  over  the  scenes  we  had  left.  As  we 
approached  Brecknock  it  opened  on  the  right,  and  on  the 
left  the  hills  were  of  great  beauty,  especially  the  Sugar 
Loaf,  which  is  cast  perhaps  in  too  correct  a  mould  for 
picturesqueness,  but  is  cultivated  almost  to  the  very 
summit,  where  it  is  green  with  shrubwood.  The  cheer- 
ful little  villages  that  were  blended  in  beautiful  confusion 
along  the  sides  of  the  opposite  mountains,  and  the  inces- 
sant bursts  of  wood  and  cultivation  which  enriched  them 
continually,  varied  the  scene.  As  we  left  Abergavenny  — 
its  hills  forming  a  grand  screen  on  the  left,  and  lofty 
mountains  hung  with  wood  projecting  into  the  Vale  on 
the  right  —  a  magnificent  pass  presented  itself  through 
which  we  looked  back  towards  Brecknock.    Continued 


RAGLAN  CASTLE.  173 

along  the  Vale.  On  the  left  were  the  green  swells  of  a 
park  belonging  to  Mr.  Hanbury  Williams,  and  on  the  right 
ran  the  mountains  finely  clothed  with  wood.  These, 
however,  soon  shifted  behind  us ;  but  the  Usk  still  accom- 
panied us,  not  often  visible  indeed,  between  rich  uplands 
with  little  villages  on  its  banks.  At  the  sixth  stone  it 
makes  a  sudden  bend  to  the  road,  and  then,  taking  its 
farewell  both  of  eye  and  ear,  it  turns  off  to  the  right 
between  close  woody  declivities,  and  after  a  pleasant 
journey  of  five  miles  arrives  at  Usk,  where  I  first  found 
it.  The  scene  soon  closes  on  the  right,  but  a  sweet 
valley,  deficient  only  in  water,  unfolds  itself  on  the  left, 
bounded  by  the  Abergavenny  hills,  among  which  the 
Sugar  Loaf  lifts  its  pointed  summit.  The  views  on 
each  side  are  at  last  reduced  to  the  compass  of  a  few 
fields,  when  Raglan  Castle  appears,  with  its  walls  and 
towers  at  a  small  distance,  but  with  no  great  degree 
of  elevation.  The  Vale  of  Usk  extends  from  Brecknock 
to  Abergavenny,  a  tract  twenty  miles  in  length.  This 
is  its  first  and  finest  part.  It  then  turns  on  the  right 
eleven  miles  to  Usk,  and  from  thence  to  Newport,  ten 
miles,  a  tract  of  equal  extent.  The  river  there  loses 
•itself  in  the  sea.  Dined  at  Raglan,  and  afterwards  stole 
a  parting  glance  at  the  Castle,  still  beautiful  as  ever,  not 
magnificent  as  a  distant  object,  but  in  itself,  when  viewed 
at  hand,  the  most  picturesque  I  ever  saw.  The  deep 
pointed  arch  of  the  gateway,  half  obscured  by  the  net- 
work of  ivy  that  hangs  from  it,  the  rich  Gothic  work- 
manship of  the  windows  and  abutments,  the  elegance  of 
the  banqueting-hall,  —  these  still  please  and  must  ever 
please.  Returned,  as  I  went,  in  haste,  to  the  great  and 
loud  merriment  of  a  party  at  a  cottage  door,  particularly 
an  arch,  black-eyed  girl  of  sixteen.  Rode  on  high  ground 
and  had  a  succession  of  the  most  beautiful  views,  little 
hills  on  each  side  melting  into  most  delicious  valleys  and 
falling  into  each  other  with  the  most  varied  forms  and 


174  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

with  the  softest  swells.  Such  a  charming  interchange 
of  wood  and  valley,  meadow,  corn  and  fallow  ground,  all 
in  miniature,  and  all  in  the  most  enchanting  confusion, 
is  only  equalled  between  Monmouth  and  Kaglan,  and 
scarcely  even  there.  From  several  higher  points  we 
commanded  in  retrospect  an  extensive  valley  bounded  by 
a  noble  amphitheatre  of  distant  mountains. 

'  Left  the  turnpike  road,  and  turning  through  a  farm- 
er's fields  soon  arrived  at  a  very  striking  spot.  On 
the  right  was  a  deep  glen,  so  deep  that  the  tufted  tops 
of  very  high  trees  were  far,  very  far,  below  me,  and  a 
torrent  rushed  along  through  them  with  fury,  but  was 
not  an  object  of  sight.  The  wood  on  the  opposite  side 
of  it  rose  very  majestically  to  a  considerable  height,  and 
on  the  left,  directly  above  me  was  a  woody  declivity* 
As  I  descended  the  depth  decreased  and  cottages  were  seen 
clinging  to  its  sides.  At  last  a  forge  appeared  with  its 
gigantic  hammers  and  its  sheet  of  red  flame,  but  the 
wood  around,  above,  and  below  it  was  as  luxuriant  as 
ever.  Down  this  glen,  the  sides  of  which  folded  over 
each  other  in  perspective  very  finely,  I  was  let  down 
gradually  among  hanging  cottages  till  a  lofty  wood 
ascended  in  front  with  the  Wye  winding  calmly  round 
it.  On  its  green  and  level  margin  stands  Tintern  Abbey. 
The  church  is  built,  as  indeed  all  abbeys  are,  in  the 
form  of  a  cross.  The  west  window  is  entire,  and  its  rich 
framework  is  clear  of  ivy,  but  within  is  finely  hung,  and 
ivy  in  large  masses  and  with  the  freshest  verdure  hangs 
everywhere  over  it.  The  arch  of  the  south  window, 
which  has  lost  its  framework,  is  so  deeply  fringed  with 
ivy  that  it  scarcely  admits  the  light,  and  the  external 
wall  of  the  south  aisle  is  entirely  overspread  with  it. 
Roger  de  Montgomery,  the  founder,  lies  entombed  there. 
But  a  very  small  part  of  the  cloisters  is  now  to  be  traced. 
Adjoining  to  what  Ts  called  the  Monk's  cell  a  poor 
woman   has   furnished  a  melancholy  apartment.      The 


TINTERN  ABBEY.  175 

vault  and  its  tenant  correspond  with.  Mr.  Gilpin's  de- 
scription, but  are  not  the  same.  The  woman  he  men- 
tions died  in  the  workhouse.  A  poor  girl  was  weeding 
the  fragments  on  the  green  floor.  The  head  of  a  monk 
and  the  body  of  a  virgin  are  scattered  there  among 
mouldings  and  cornices.  A  little  path  leads  directly 
to  the  river,  which  is  shut  in  on  all  sides  by  high  hang- 
ing woods.  Ascended  by  a  by-path,  taking  leave  of 
this  venerable  ruin  through  the  trees.  Nothing  can  be 
more  imposing  than  the  perspective  through  its  aisles 
when  the  west  door  is  thrown  open.  Its  outside  is 
almost  wholly  [hidden]  by  the  cottages  that  surround  it. 
Ascended  up  a  hanging  wood.  On  the  left  was  the  rocky 
bed  of  some  winter  torrent,  and  the  path  itself  was  little 
better.  It  soon  closed  and  the  trees  overarched  it.  It 
was  now  near  ten,  and  the  gloom  was  awful.  It  was 
here  that  I  met  a  figure  which  I  at  first  thought  was  an 
ancient  tenant  of  the  abbey.  It  wore  a  flannel  gown 
which  hung  like  a  hood  over  the  head.  Not  a  lock  of 
hair  appeared  over  a  pallid  but  striking  countenance.  A 
small  black  beaver  hat  was  in  one  hand,  and  the  other 
held  a  staff.  I  asked  with  some  degree  of  hesitation  the 
way  to  Chepstow,  when  it  appeared  to  be  an  old  woman. 
My  question  drew  an  appeal  to  my  charity.  She  was 
returning  home  from  the  surgeon  with  a  strengthening 
plaster  and  could  scarcely  crawl.  Gained  the  heights,  and 
saw  the  Severn  with  its  wide  waters  before  me ;  but  the 
night  was  cloudy  and  I  could  but  just  distinguish  a  park 
on  my  left  as  I  entered  Chepstow.  There  I  was  regaled 
with  songs  by  a  cheerful  young  man  of  the  town  who 
was  entertaining  the  landlord's  daughters  —  fine  girls, 
particularly  the  youngest  —  in  the  bar.  Eead  an  account 
of  the  riots  at  Birmingham.' 

The  journey  was  continued  in  the  same   manner  to 
Bristol  and  Bath.     Having  dined  at  Beachley  Passage 


176  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

House  he  crossed  the  Severn,  two  miles,  in  six  minutes 
and  a  half,  landing  on  a  rough  rock  covered  with  sea- 
weed, it  being  half-tide,  and  went  by  King's  Weston, 
paying  a  visit  to  the  point  in  Lord  Clifton's  park  from 
which  the  celebrated  view  is  to  be  seen,  and  thence  on 
over  Durdham  Down  to  Clifton.  He  notes  the  villages 
and  villas  which  spot  the  country,  the  sprinkling  of 
carriages  and  horses  on  the  downs,  the  ^  close  and  awful 
pass '  through  which  the  sails  rapidly  succeed  each  other 
along  the  Avon ;  the  Hot  Wells,  *  and  the  walks  full  of 
walkers,  French  staymakers.  Pall  Mall  milliners,  and 
all  the  finery  and  impertinence  of  life  j '  and  adds :  *  I 
was  sorry  to  renew  my  acquaintance  with  it.'  Next  day 
he  notes  the  picturesque  aspect  of  St.  Vincent's  rocks, 
tastes  the  water  at  the  Hot  Wells,  and  notes  the  young 
women,  many  apparently  consumptive,  who  were  there, 
and  one  girl  who  ^  drank  her  glass  on  the  mail  pillion.' 
He  complains  of  being  ^  enveloped  in  black  dust  on  the 
road  to  Bath,  where  the  Eoyal  Crescent  on  the  hillside 
strikes  him  with  its  simplicity  and  beauty  as  he  enters 
the  city,  which,  however,  <  wants  the  domes  and  turrets 
of  public  buildings  to  give  it  magnificence '  at  a  distance. 
The  month  in  which  Eogers  had  thus  been  enjoying 
the  delights  of  home  travel,  which  made  him  sorry  to 
return  to  all  the  finery  and  impertinence  of  life,  had  been 
one  of  great  anxiety  to  many  of  his  personal  friends. 
His  brief  record  on  the  20th  of  July  —  *  Bead  an  account 
of  the  riots  at  Birmingham  '  —  is  like  that  of  an  outside 
spectator  of  a  serious  social  and  political  crisis.  There 
is  no  need  to  tell  in  this  place  the  painful  and  disgrace- 
ful story  of  the  sack  of  Dr.  Priestley's  house,  the  de- 
struction of  his  philosophical  apparatus  and  library,  and 
the  burning  by  a  drunken  mob  of  the  meeting-house  in 
which  he  preached.  If  on  the  other  side  of  the  Channel 
crimes  were  being  committed,  as  Madame  Roland  after- 
wards exclaimed,  in  the  name  of  liberty,  these  outrages 


LETTER  FROM  MRS.  BARBAULD.  177 

were  perpetrated  in  the  England  of  Pitt  and  George  III. 
in  the  supposed  interests  of  church  and  king.  Kogers 
was  in  full  sympathy  with  those  against  whom  this  vio- 
lence was  directed,  but  poetry  and  not  politics  was  still 
the  uppermost  thought  in  his  mind.  During  the  Welsh 
journey  he  corresponded  with  Mrs.  Barbauld,  among 
other  friends,  and  just  before  the  ominous  entry  in  his 
diary  he  had  received  from  her  a  letter  expressive  of  her 
enthusiastic  adherence  to  the  Liberal  side.  It  was  writ- 
ten on  the  day  before  the  second  celebration  of  the  fall 
of  the  Bastille,  and  the  occurrence  of  the  Birmingham 
riots. 

Mrs,  Barbauld  to  S.  BogerSy 

'Dear  Sir, — For  your  very  entertaining  as  well  as 
very  friendly  letter  I  thank  you  with  all  sincerity,  and  am 
truly  sensible  of  the  favor  you  do  me  by  writing  when 
you  are  surrounded  by  such  charming  scenes  that  while 
you  bend  your  eyes  upon  paper  you  must  lose  a  landscape. 
But  why  do  you  bid  me  write  who  have  nothing  to  com- 
municate, where  there  are  neither  harps  nor  Druids  ? 
We  have  a  lady,  indeed,  and  she  is  a  pretty  lady,  who 
sings  a  Welsh  song  most  enchantingly,  but  then  she  has 
not  the  advantage  of  singing  in  a  cottage ;  and,  moreover, 
she  is  a  married  woman.  I  have  been  trying  in  my  own 
mind  whether  Miss  Hagen,  with  her  fingers  upon  her 
harp,  will  bear  any  comparison  with  an  ancient  Druid 
sweeping  his  with  his  flowing  beard ;  but  I  find  her  so 
infinitely  inferior  in  the  sublime,  that  I  am  obliged  to 
drop  the  similitude.  I  know  of  no  news  to  tell  you  but 
that  Mr.  George  Maltby  was  at  meeting  yesterday,  look- 
ing very  happy,  and  that  the  family  of  the  Websters  set 
off  to-morrow  for  Devonshire,  to  our  great  regret,  as  I 
suppose  they  quit  Hampstead  entirely. 

*But  pray,  sir,  what  have  you  to  say  in  your  defence 
for  rambling  amongst  fairy  streams  and  hanging  woods 

12 


178  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

instead  of  being  at  the  "  Crown  and  Anchor,"  as  you  and 
every  good  patriot  ought  to  be  on  the  14th  of  July? 
What  do  you  say  to  that  ?  Do  not  you  deserve  at  least  as 
severe  a  philippic  as  the  Welsh  farmer  gave  his  cow  ? 

*  Muse,  thy  thrilling  numbers  dart 
Through  his  ear  and  through  his  heart ; 
Chide  the  youth  who  holds  his  stay 
Far  from  Freedom's  band  away. 

*  Hanging  woods  and  fairy  streams 
Inspirers  of  poetic  dreams, 
Must  not  now  the  soul  enthrall 
While  dungeons  burst  and  despots  fall 

*  Shall  peals  of  village  bells  prevail, 
Floating  on  the  summer  gale, 
While  the  Tocsin  sounds  afar. 
Breathing  arms  and  glorious  war  ? 

*  Think  when  woods  of  brownest  shades 
Open  bright  to  sunny  glades, 

Such  the  gloom  and  such  the  light 

Of  Freedom's  noon  and  Slavery's  night. 

*  Harps  of  Mona,  sound  once  more. 
With  strong  vibrations  shake  the  shore. 
Ne'er  did  your  solemn  chords  relate 
Eventful  scenes  so  big  with  fate. 

*  Now  stretched  at  hoary  Snowdon's  base 
Hide  in  shades  thy  long  disgrace. 

And  blush  that  Freedom's  child  should  be 
Far  from  Freedom's  Jubilee. 

*  You  see  how  envious  I  am,  not  being  able  to  trans- 
port myself  to  those  delightful  scenes  you  so  well  describe. 
I  am  maliciously  endeavoring  to  disturb  the  harmony  of 
your  sensations,  but  I  dare  say  you  will  disappoint  my 
.  malice.  ...  I  hope  when  you  return  we  shall  have  the 


DR.   PRIESTLEY.  179 

pleasure  of  seeing  you  soon,  as  we  shall  go  into  Norfolk, 
I  believe,  about  the  beginning  of  August. 

<  M.  Eabaud  ^  has  sent  a  second  address  to  the  people 
of  England.  It  is  an  exhortation  to  peace,  and  urges 
sentiments  of  national  justice,  which  I  hope  we  are  not 
disposed  to  controvert. 

^  Perhaps  you  know  that  Mrs.  Williams  and  Cecilia  -are 
set  out  for  France,  and  that  Helen  and  the  rest  of  the 
family  are  soon  to  follow.  They  pay  a  visit  to  their  old 
friends  at  Eouen  before  they  settle  at  Orleans. 

*  Mr.  Barbauld,  who  has  shared  in  the  entertainment 
of  your  letter,  desires  to  join  in  thanks  for  it  and  in  affec- 
tionate remembrance, 

^  I  am,  dear  Sir, 

'  Your  obliged  friend  and  faithful  servant, 
'  A.  L.  Barbauld. 
*  Hampstead,  July  13th.     [Postmark  1791.] ' 

The  excitement  which  the  Birmingham  riots  produced 
spread  more  or  less  violently  all  through  the  country. 
Thomas  Rogers  was  well  known  to  be  in  full  sympathy 
with  Dr.  Priestley  and  his  friends,  and  there  were  reasons 
to  fear  an  attack  by  the  mob  on  the  house  at  ^  The  Hill,' 
where  his  sisters,  Samuel  Eogers's  aunts,  continued  to 
live.  Happily  the  danger  passed  over.  Thomas  Rogers 
was  there,  as  usual,  in  the  summer,  and  in  a  letter  to  his 
son,  dated  the  21st  of  September,  speaks  of  the  state  of 
feeling  which  then  existed  at  Stourbridge :  — 

'I  am  sorry  to  say  in  answer  to  your  postscript 
respecting  the  party  spirit  at  Stourbridge,  that  there 
is  some  truth  in  the  report,  though  the  conduct  of  the 
church  is  not  quite  so  bad  as  the  report  makes  it.  Mr. 
Parker,  Jr.,  a  grocer  in  the  town,  received  a  parcel  by 

1  M.  Rabaud  St.  fitienne,  a  deputy  of  the  National  Assembly.  He 
was  a  Protestant  clergyman  and  con*espondent  of  Dr.  Price. 


180  EARLY  LIFE  OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

the  common  carrier  of  the  obnoxious  handbill.^  He 
owns  that  he  gave  one  of  them  to  a  clergyman  in  the 
neighborhood,  but  at  [the]  same  time  expressed  his  dis- 
approbation of  it,  and  his  determination  to  burn  the 
remainder.  He  declares  solemnly  that  he  burned  all  the 
other  copies  immediately  afterwards;  but  one  of  them 
having  been  left  in  the  public  library  and  another  stuck 
up  in  the  coffee-room  at  the  "Talbot,"  and  about  six 
more  having  been  sent  under  cover  from  the  post-office 
in  Stourbridge  to  as  mauy  gentlemen  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, the  whole  of  this,  notwithstanding  his  denial,  is 
laid  to  his  charge.  This  brought  the  young  man  into 
disgrace,  and  many  of  his  customers  immediately  sent  for 
their  bills  and  paid  them  off  and  left  his  shop.  Some 
others  of  the  Dissenters  have  also  suffered  in  their 
business.  .  .  .  The  flame  the  handbill  has  occasioned 
is  scarcely  to  be  conceived,  and  the  violent  charge  the 
whole  body  of  Dissenters  with  entertaining  the  same 
sentiments,  and  wishing  for  a  revolution  in  this  coun- 
try, and  conduct  themselves  accordingly ;  but  it  is  said 
that  at  Birmingham  and  Stourbridge  they  are  softening 
apace.  Many  of  my  acquaintance  seem  to  be  more 
attentive  to  me  than  usual.' 

In  a  postscript  he  adds :  — 

*  I  am  inclined  to  think  Dr.  Priestley  will  not  return 
to  Birmingham.  All  the  respectable  part  of  the  congre- 
gation, except  about  two  or  three,  signed  a  very  warm 
request  for  his  return,  but  he  had  not  returned  his 
answer  on  Wednesday  last.  Mr.  Taylor  and  Mr.  John 
Ryland  were  among  the  opponents.    When  I  saw  Mr. 

1  This  was  an  address  from  the  assembled  deputies  and  delegates  of 
the  Protestant  Dissenters  of  England  to  the  Protestant  Dissentei-s  of 
Birmingham  who  suffered  from  the  riots.  It  expressed  the  astonish- 
ment and  horror  the  outrages  had  excited,  and  assured  the  Birmingham 
Dissenters  of  their  warmest  affection  and  steadiest  support. 


DR.  PARR  AT  HOME.  181 

Stone  at  Brighton  he  intimated  that  it  was  the  wish  of 
many  of  the  Hackney  gentlemen  to  invite  the  doctor  to 
Hackney,  and  that  Mr.  William  Morgan  approved  of  the 
idea.  He  said  also  if  Jones  Avent  to  Birmingham,  where 
he  was  likely  to  be  invited,  that  perhaps  Dr.  P.  would 
be  prevailed  on  to  give  chemical  and  philosophical 
lectures  at  the  College.' 

The  Jones  mentioned  in  this  letter  seems  to  have 
gone  to  Birmingham  as  Mr.  Morgan  expected.  He 
appears  also  to  have  kept  up  a  connection  with  the  house 
at  Newington  Green.  Samuel  Kogers's  advice  to  him  to 
call  on  Dr.  Parr  was  the  origin  of  one  of  the  familiar 
stories  told  by  him  and  not  very  correctly  reported  by 
Mr.  Hay  ward  in  the  ^  Edinburgh  Review '  article  in  which 
Mr.  Dyce's  inaccuracies  are  severely  rebuked.  The 
story  is  told  by  the  E,ev.  D.  Jones  himself  in  the  follow- 
ing letter : — 

An  Interview  loith  Dr.  Parr. 

•BM.,13thNovr.,  1793. 
*Dear  Sir, — Do  not  be  surprised  by  the  trouble  I 
now  give  you.  Perhaps  you  recollect  a  part  of  our  con- 
versation which  turned  upon  Dr.  Parr,  and  your  advising 
me  to  introduce  myself  to  him.  This  advice  I  took  the 
first  opportunity  of  putting  in  practice.  The  next  Sat- 
urday after  seeing  you  I  set  out  for  Warwick.  Hatton, 
the  Doctor's  residence,  lies  in  the  way.  I  arrived  at 
the  place,  fastened  my  horse  to  the  gate,  knocked  at  the 
door,  inquired  for  the  Doctor,  and  learned  that  he  was  at 
dinner.  I  told  the  servant  I  would  wait  while  he  dined, 
when  I  should  be  glad  to  speak  to  him.  I  was  turned 
into  a  parlor  where  was  the  Doctor's  picture ;  it  set  him 
off  to  the  best  advantage.  Here  I  waited  half  an  hour, 
contemplating  the  oddness  of  the  adventure.     The  door 


182  EAKLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  KOGEKS. 

opens,  I  prepare  to  make  my  bow  and  my  speech  — 
behold,  it  is  a  servant  girl  come  to  ask  my  name !  Pres- 
ently again  the  handle  of  the  door  moves,  I  make  the 
same  preparations  —  behold,  it  is  a  young  lady  whom  I 
took  to  be  Miss  Parr,  and  who  proved  to  be  her !  She 
requests  me  to  walk  into  the  parlor.  This  I  decline, 
stating  that  I  had  not  the  honor  of  being  known  to  the 
Doctor,  but  that  when  he  was  perfectly  at  leisure  I 
should  be  glad  to  speak  a  few  words  with  him.  I  judged 
it  better  to  introduce  myself  to  him  alone  than  before 
company.  The  young  lady  soon  left  me,  and  she  had 
hardly  been  gone  any  time  before  the  great  man  ushered 
himself  in.  I  was  cool  and  composed.  I  approached 
him  and  thus  accosted  him :  "  I  hope,  sir,  1  have  not 
interrupted  your  dinner;  I  begged  that  I  might  wait 
till  you  were  perfectly  at  leisure  ?  "  "  Not  at  all,  sir.'* 
"  My  name  is  Jones ;  I  am  a  Dissenting  minister  at 
Birmingham.  Being  on  my  road  to  Warwick  I  could 
not  resist  the  inclination  I  felt  to  pay  my  respects  to 
Dr.  Parr."  I  had  hardly  uttered  these  words  but  the 
Doctor's  eyes  glistened.  He  took  me  by  the  hand,  squeez- 
ing it  heartily,  leading  me  round  the  room,  and  asking 
me  several  times  how  I  did.  He  begged  I  would  stay 
the  evening  with  him,  and  offered  to  send  to  Warwick  to 
apprise  my  friends  of  it.  I  closed  with  the  offer,  as  I 
was  not  expected  at  Warwick.  He  then  introduced  me 
to  Mrs.  and  Miss  Parr  as  a  man  of  piety,  sense,  etc. ;  to 
another  lady  and  gentleman  as  *'"a  thorough  Whig,  no 
Tory,  but  one  who  had  successfully  opposed  them  in  his 
writings."  This  was  about  four  o'clock,  and  the  Doctor 
entertained  me  till  one  in  the  morning.  I  was  highly 
pleased  with  him.  He  possesses  first-rate  conversational 
powers.  He  speaks  of  Dr.  Priestley  in  the  highest  terms. 
"  Ma'am,"  said  he  to  a  lady  there,  "  he  has  done  more 
to  promote  human  knowledge  than  any  man  in  Europe." 
I  have  since  written  to  him,  and  received  a  very  friendly 


BRISSOT  AND  HIS  PARTY.  183 

reply,  and  have  a  general  invitation  to  his  house,  of 
which  I  mean  to  avail  myself. 

^  I  think  not  very  highly  of  Brissot  and  his  party,  but 
there  was  no  necessity  for  putting  so  many  people  to 
death.  The  account  shocked  me  greatly.  I  do  not  mean 
to  try  to  draw  you  into  a  correspondence,  but  if  you 
could  let  me  know,  in  a  few  words,  how  I  am  to  conceive 
of  that  event  it  would  oblige  me  much.  I  do  not  urge 
this,  as  it  will  not  be  long  ere  I  see  you.  I  thought  that 
the  relation  of  this  adventure,  suggested  by  yourself,  may 
amuse  you.  Excuse  the  freedom,  and  believe  me  with 
unfeigned  esteem  to  be  sincerely  yours, 

•  D.  Jones. 

*  Samuel  Rogers,  Esq., 
*  Newington  Green.' 


CHAPTER  VII. 

*The  Pleasures  of  Memory.'  —  Letter  of  Criticism  from  Dr.  Parr; 
Notes.  —  Letter  of  Gilpin.  —  Hayward's  Criticism.  —  Estimate  of 
the  Poem. 

Mrs.  Barbauld's  rebuke  to  Eogers  for  being  away  in 
Wales,  '  far  from  Freedom's  Jubilee/  on  the  second  anni- 
versary of  the  capture  of  the  Bastille  need  not  be  held  to 
indicate  any  want  of  sympathy  on  his  part  with  the  great 
Liberal  movements  of  tbe  time.  His  nephew  Samuel 
Sharpe  reminds  us  that  'poetry  was  the  uppermost 
thought  in  his  mind ; '  and  lie  was  at  that  time  just 
bringing  his  chief  poem  to  completion.  He  had  been 
occupied  with,  it  for  more  than  six  years.  It  was  begun 
in  1785,  as  soon  as  the  '  Ode  to  Superstition '  was  com- 
plete, and  in  the  summer  of  1791  he  was  just  sending  it 
to  the  press.  It  had  been  written  in  the  same  manner 
as  his  earlier  poems.  It  was  literally  the  recreation  of 
a  man  of  business,  his  'leisure's  best  resource,'  as  he 
calls  it  in  the  lines  prefixed  to  the  fifth  edition.  With 
the  exception  of  his  holidays,  which  the  state  of  his 
health  made  somewhat  more  frequent  than  they  might 
otherwise  have  been,  his  whole  life  during  these  years 
was  that  of  a  junior  partner  in  the  bank.  He  went  into 
the  City  in  the  morning,  spent  the  day  there,  dined  early 
with  the  other  partners  at  the  banking-house,  and  rode 
or  walked  home  when  business  was  over.  He  had,  of 
late  years,  been  more  away  from  home  in  the  evening, 
going  with  Dr.  Kippis  to  literary  parties  or  to  some 
literary  club,  or  to  the  Hampstead  Assemblies,  or  follow- 
ing up  his  acquaintance  with   Mrs.   Barbauld  or  the 


'THE  PLEASURES  OF  MEMORY.'  185 

Baillies,  the  Piozzis,  the  Williamses,  or  Dr.  Moore.  But 
as  a  rule  his  evenings  were  spent  in  diligent  reading  or 
in  equally  diligent  composition.  The  only  verses  which 
he  published  during  these  years  seem  to  have  been  the 
little  poem  '  On  a  Tear/  which  in  his  works  bears  the 
date  of  1791.  It  was  apparently  printed  in  Este's  jour- 
nal, ^  The  World/  and  reissued  in  1791  in  a  12mo  volume 
entitled  '  The  Poetry  of  The  Worlds  and  published  by 
Kidgeway.  In  a  review  of  two  of  these  volumes  in  the 
*  Monthly  Eeview '  for  September,  1791,  the  managers  of 
the  paper  are  thanked  'for  the  exertions  which  they 
have  made  to  rescue  newspaper  poetry  from  disgrace  by 
inviting  some  acknowledged  favorites  of  the  Muses  to 
decorate  their  pages.'  The  favorites  whose  names  are 
mentioned  are  Mr.  Sheridan,  Mr.  Merry,  Mrs.  Cowley, 
Mr.  Andrews,  Mr.  Jerningham,  Mr.  Colman,  Mrs.  Kob- 
inson.  Captain  Broome,  and  Captain  Topham.  Most  of 
these  belonged  to  the  Delia  Cruscan  school,  and  all  but 
Sheridan  are  forgotten.  But  the  critic  quotes  none  of 
them.  He  deprecates  criticism  as  ^  breaking  butterflies 
on  the  wheel,'  and  adds,  '  instead  of  assisting  our  readers 
to  detect  little  faults  we  will  tempt  them  to  admire  by 
transcribing  the  following  beautiful  stanzas.'  He  then 
quotes  the  six  verses  'On  a  Tear,'  which  have  almost 
ever  since  kept  their  place  in  collections  of  popular 
poetry. 

'The  Pleasures  of  Memory'  was  published  by  Mr. 
Cadell  early  in  1792.  It  was  described  as  by  the  author  of 
the  '  Ode  to  Superstition.'  Only  two  hundred  and  fifty 
copies  were  printed,  and  they  were  disposed  of  at  once.  A 
long  review  of  the  poem  appeared  in  the  '  Critical  Eeview ' 
for  April,  1792,  in  which  it  was  rather  severely  criticised, 
though  with  the  admission  that  its  defects  were  over- 
powered by  its  beauties.  '  The  flame  of  genius,'  said  the 
critic,  '  which  pervaded,  and  so  brightly  glowed  in  the 
"  Ode  to  Superstition,"  demanded  our  applause,  which  we 


186  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

shall  not  witlihold  from  the  present  poem,  though  exhib- 
iting less  splendid  marks  of  poetical  inspiration ;  more 
argumentative  and  metaphysical.'  In  June  the  ^  Monthly 
Keview'  made  the  poem  the  subject  of  its  first  article,  and 
spoke  of  it  with  unstinted  praise.  *  If  the  author  of  this 
poem  be  thought  happy  in  the  choice  of  a  copious  and 
fertile  theme,  which  has  yet  by  no  means  been  exhausted^ 
he  is  equally  so  in  the  manner  in  which  he  has  treated  it. 
Correctness  of  thought,  delicacy  of  sentiment,  variety  of 
imagery,  and  harmony  of  versification  are  the  characters 
which  distinguish  this  beautiful  poem  in  a  degree  that 
cannot  fail  to  insure  its  success.'  This  is  a  perfectly 
just  account  of  the  poem,  and  does  not  need  the 
slightest  change  at  the  end  of  nearly  a  hundred  years. 
In  the  same  month  in  which  it  appeared  the  'Critical 
Eeview '  in  a  short  notice  said  that  though  neither  the 
fiery  stream  of  passion  nor  the  electric  sparks  of  fancy 
burn  along  the  lines,  yet  a  mellow  tasteful  tint  shed  over 
it  renders  many  of  the  sentiments  interesting  and  the 
whole  soothing.  These  two  views  are  curiously  blended 
by  Mr.  Hay  ward  in  the  article  written  sixty-four  years 
later  in  the  *  Edinburgh  Eeview.'  He  there  said  of  Eogers 
that  '  from  the  moment  he  discovered  that  he  was  des- 
tined to  excel  by  grace,  elegance,  subdued  sentiment,  and 
chastened  fancy  —  not  by  fervid  passion,  lofty  imagina- 
tion or  deep  feeling  —  his  poetic  fortune  was  made.'* 
Sir  Egerton  Brydges,  who  had  just  published  a  little 
volume  of  sonnets  and  poems,  records  in  his  '  Autobiog- 
raphy '  that  a  year  or  two  after  he  entered  the  lists  '  came 
out  Kogers's  "Pleasures  of  Memory,"  which  instantly 
became  popular,  especially  among  the  ladies.  The  lines 
have  something  of  a  cast  between  Tickell,  Shenstone, 
and  Goldsmith.'^     The   popularity  of  the  poem  was 

1  Edinburgh  Review,  July,  1856. 

2  Autobiography,  vol.  i.  p.  87. 


*THE  PLEASURES  OF  MEMORY.'  187 

by  no  means  confined  to  ladies.  Critics,  authors,  philo- 
sophers, and  statesmen  united  in  its  praise.  The  first 
editions  seem  to  have  been  sold  as  soon  as  they  were 
published.  Kogers's  early  friend,  William  Maltby,  writes 
to  him  while  he  was  travelling  in  the  south  of  England 
in  July,  telling  him  that  he  had  called  at  CadelFs  and 
learned  from  Lawless  that  the  whole  impression  was 
sold  before  the  ^Monthly  Eeview'  came  out,  and  adding 
*he  lamented  that  two  hundred  and  fifty  copies  only  were 
printed,  as  twice  the  number  might  have  been  sold.' 
This  may  possibly  refer  to  a  second  edition,  as  the  work 
was  out,  and  copies  were  sent  to  the  author's  friends 
early  in  January.  Robert  Merry,  the  almost  forgotten 
author  of  *  Lorenzo'  and  ^Fenelon,'  writes  to  Kogers 
from  35  Gerrard  Street  on  the  18th  of  January,  1792, 
thanking  him  for  a  copy  of  the  poem,  telling  him  that 
he  had  gone  to  Mr.  Cadell  and  found  oat  the  author, 
and  urging  him  to  put  his  name  to  it  at  once.  During 
the  first  twelve  or  fourteen  months  after  its  issue  four 
editions  of  the  poem,  probably  of  two  hundred  and  fifty 
copies  each,  were  disposed  of,  and  its  popularity  and 
success  were  already  established.  In  May,  1793,  a  fifth 
edition  was  published,  and  it  was  thought  wise  to  venture 
on  printing  a  thousand  copies.  These  were  all  dis- 
tributed in  the  course  of  the  year.  This  fifth  edition 
was  a  duodecimo  of  a  hundred  and  twenty-four  pages, 
and  was  published  at  six  shillings.  It  was  prefaced  by 
the  introductory  lines  which  have  ever  since  stood  as 
the  preface  to  all  editions  of  his  poems. 

It  is  only  fair  to  Eogers  that  I  should  point  out  how 
completely  these  lines  embody  the  spirit  and  express 
the  motive  of  his  poetry.  He  could  not  have  sat  at 
Dr.  Price's  feet,  or  been  Priestley's  friend,  or  breathed 
for  thirty  years  the  moral  and  spiritual  atmosphere  of 
blended  Puritanism  and  latitudinarianism  w^hich  per- 
vaded his  Stoke  Newington  home,  without  learning  to 


188  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

feel  a  high  sense  of  moral  responsibility  for  what  he 
wrote. 

*  Oh,  could  my  mind,  unfolded  in  my  page, 
Enlighten  climes  and  mould  a  future  age ; 
There  as  it  glowed,  with  noblest  frenzy  fraught, 
Dispense  the  treasures  of  exalted  thought; 
To  Virtue  wake  the  pulses  of  the  heart, 
And  bid  the  tear  of  emulation  start  1 
Oh,  could  it  still,  through  each  succeeding  year. 
My  life,  my  manners,  and  my  name  endear, 
And,  when  the  poet  sleeps  in  silent  dust. 
Still  hold  communion  with  the  wise  and  just !  — 
Yet  should  this  Verse,  my  leisure's  best  resource, 
"When  through  the  world  it  steals  its  secret  course, 
Revive  but  once  a  generous  wish  supprest, 
Chase  but  a  sigh,  or  charm  a  care  to  rest ; 
In  one  good  deed  a  fleeting  hour  employ, 
Or  flush  one  faded  cheek  with  honest  joy,  — 
Blest  were  my  lines,  though  limited  their  sphere. 
Though  short  their  date  as  his  who  traced  them  here.* 

In  this  last  line  he  gives  expression  to  the  feeling  his 
frail  health  produced.  He  had  less  expectation  and  less 
reason  for  the  expectation  of  long  life  than  young  men 
usually  have.  These  lines  were  published  before  he  had 
completed  his  thirtieth  year,  and  he  lived  for  nearly 
sixty-three  years  after  they  were  written.  He  lived  to 
know  that  *  The  Pleasures  of  Memory  ^  had  taken  its  place 
as  an  English  classic.  The  fifth  edition,  to  which  this 
preface  was  affixed,  was  illustrated  with  a  couple  of 
whole-page  woodcuts  from  drawings  by  T.  Stothard :  the 
first  a  group  of  children  to  illustrate  the  line  — 

*  'T  was  here  we  chas*d  the  slipper  by  its  sound ;  * 

and  the  second,  the  Shipwreck,  with  the  *  faint  and  faded 
Julia,'  in  her  lover's  arms  on  the  shore,  and  the  father 
kneeling  behind,  his  white  hairs  strewed  in  the  wind. 
This  edition  contained  the  *  Ode  to  Superstition/  and  five 


LARGE  SALE  OF  HIS  POEMS.  189 

small  poems  which  like  the  '  Ode '  had  been  previously 
published.  These  were,  *  The  Sailor/  ^  Verses  on  a  Tear,' 
'  Sketch  of  the  Alps  at  Daybreak.'  '  A  Wish,'  and  '  An 
Italian  Song.'  The  ^Ode'  was  illustrated  by  two  wood- 
cuts from  pictures  by  R.  Westall :  the  first,  of  the  Fates 
*  wrapt  in  clouds,  in  tempests  tost ; '  and  the  second  to 
illustrate  the  lines  — 

*  In  cloistered  solitude  she  sits  and  sighs, 
"While  from  each  shrine  stiU  small  responses  rise.* 

Each  engraving  bears  the  words  '  Published  May  29th, 
1793,  by  T.  Cadell,  Strand.'  The  world  has  been  so 
often  told  that  Eogers  got  his  poems  beautifully  illus- 
trated because  they  had  ceased  to  sell,  that  it  is  needful 
to  point  out  how  early  he  began  to  associate  his  poetry 
with  the  best  examples  of  the  engraver's  art.  Nearly 
all  the  editions  of  his  poems  contained  engravings,  if  it 
were  only,  as  in  the  edition  of  1816,  pretty  vignettes  by 
Stothard,  engraved  by  Clennell,  to  fill  blank  pages  and 
the  spaces  at  the  beginning  and  end  of  a  poem.  The  popu- 
larity of  *  The  Pleasures  of  Memory,'  shown  by  the  issue 
of  the  fifth  edition  within  sixteen  months,  continued  to 
increase  year  by  year.  He  did  not  put  his  name  on  the 
titlepage  even  of  the  fifth  edition,  but  he  signed  the 
prefatory  lines  with  his  initials,  and  the  binder  labelled 
the  volume  on  the  back  *Eogers's  Poems.'  From  this 
time,  therefore,  he  was  known,  and  wherever  he  went  was 
acknowledged  as  the  popular  poet  of  *  The  Pleasures  of 
Memory.'  In  1794  a  sixth  and  a  seventh  edition,  each 
of  a  thousand  copies,  were  published.  In  1797  appeared 
the  eighth  edition,  also  of  a  thousand  ;  a  ninth  in  1798, 
and  a  tenth  and  eleventh  in  1799.  In  1801  a  twelfth 
edition  was  called  for,  and  the  number  printed  was  raised 
to  fifteen  hundred,  in  addition  to  which  a  hundred  copies 
were  printed  on  large  paper ;  in  1802  the  thirteenth 
edition,  also  of  fifteen  hundred,  was  issued.     On  the 


190  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

fourteenth  edition  being  called  for  in  1803  the  number 
printed  was  raised  to  two  thousand;  in  1806  the  fif- 
teenth edition  was  printed,  also  of  two  thousand.  The 
sale  continued  at  much  the  same  rate,  and  the  edition  of 
1816,  already  mentioned,  was  the  nineteenth.  Omitting 
the  sales  of  the  first  four  editions,  of  which  no  clear 
record  is  preserved,  but  which  consisted  of  very  small 
numbers,  and  including  the  large  paper  copies,  of  which 
a  hundred  were  printed  in  1801  and  two  hundred  and 
fifty  in  1810,  the  total  issue  of  the  work  —  from  the  pub- 
lication of  the  fifth  edition  in  1793  to  the  nineteenth  in 
1816  —  was  22,350  copies.  This  was  one  of  the  greatest 
literary  successes  of  the  time.  When  we  recollect  how 
small  the  educated  and  reading  world  then  was,  and  to 
how  narrow  an  audience  a  poem  of  culture  and  not  of 
passion  was  addressed,  the  steady  and  increasing  demand 
for  ^  The  Pleasures  of  Memory '  is  a  remarkable  sign  of 
the  poetical  taste  of  the  period,  and  of  Kogers's  success 
in  meeting  and  satisfying  it.  These  large  numbers  may 
be  compared  with  the  small  sale  of  Wordsworth's  '  Ex- 
cursion,' of  which  the  first  edition,  published  in  1814, 
consisted  of  only  five  hundred  copies  and  sufficed  for  six 
years,  when  another  edition  of  the  same  number  was 
Issued,  and  lasted  seven  years.  The  favor  with  which 
Kogers's  poem  was  received  was,  moreover,  not  that  of  the 
unreflecting  multitude.  The  letters  published  in  these 
volumes,  and  similar  letters  and  notices  which  are  scat- 
tered all  through  the  biographies  of  Eogers's  eminent 
contemporaries,  show  the  universal  appreciation  in  which 
his  'Pleasures  of  Memory'  was  held  by  men  of  taste 
and  culture.  It  was  totally  unlike  anything  that  was 
appearing  at  the  time.  The  period  had  just  passed  of 
which  Macaulay  speaks  when  he  says  that  '  poetry  had 
fallen  into  such  decay  that  Mr.  Hayley  was  considered  a 
great  poet.'  Cowper,  whose  Life  is  the  work  by  which 
Hayley  best  deserves  to  be  remembered,  had  already  pub- 


HIS  POETICAL  CONTEMPORARIES.  191 

lished  most  of  his  poems ;  and  his  translation  of  Homer, 
in  which  Rogers  delighted  as  Thomas  Campbell  also  did, 
had  come  out  in  the  year  before.  *The  Task,'  which 
had  been  the  most  popular  of  his  poems,  had  appeared 
in  1785 ;  but  large  and  rapid  as  its  sale  had  been,  —  so 
large  that  Johnson  the  publisher  told  Rogers  he  had 
been  induced  to  make  a  handsome  present  to  its  author,  — 
it  did  not  by  any  means  reach  the  success  of  *  The  Pleas- 
ures of  Memory.'  Hay  ley's  popularity  had  already  faded 
away  before  that  of  Cowper,  and  the  sentimental  school 
to  which  he  belonged,  and  of  which  he  had  been  the 
foremost  representative,  had  disappeared  in  the  new 
love  of  simplicity  and  naturalness  which  Cowper  had 
awakened.  The  Delia  Cruscans  were  the  degenerate 
descendants  of  the  sentimental  school,  and  were  only 
waiting  for  Gifford's  rough  heel  to  crush  them  finally. 
Other  poets  were  still  in  embryo.  Tom  Moore,  then  a 
boy  of  fourteen,  though,  as  he  calls  himself,  *  a  deter- 
mined rhymester,'  had  not  sent  his  first  rhymes  to  the 
*  Anthologia  Hibernica,'  in  which  magazine  he  first  read 
Rogers's  poem  in  the  numbers  for  January  and  February, 
1793,  —  little  dreaming,  he  says  in  his  memoirs  of  himself, 
that  he  should  one  day  become  the  intimate  friend  of  the 
author;  ^and  such  an  impression  did  it  then  make  on 
me,'  he  adds,  '  that  the  particular  type  in  which  it  is 
there  printed,  and  the  very  color  of  the  paper  are  asso- 
ciated with  every  line  of  it  in  my  memory.'  Byron  was 
a  child  just  four  years  old.  Wordsworth  was  in  France 
looking  on  at  the  Revolution,  riveted  to  the  spot,  as  his 
biographer  tells  us,  by  a  mysterious  spell,  longing  to  re- 
main in  Paris,  but  obliged  by  circumstances  to  return,  or, 
as  he  says  in  *  The  Prelude,'  — 

*  Dragged  by  a  chain  of  harsh  necessity, 
So  seemed  it  —  now  I  thankfully  acknowledge 
Forced  by  the  gracious  Providence  of  Heaven '  — 


192  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

and  thus  escaping  the  proscription  which  swept  away  his 
friends  the  Brissotins,  with  whom  he  says  he  should 
have  made  common  cause,  and  — 

*  .  .  .  haply  perished,  too, 
A  poor  mistaken  and  bewildered  offering, 
Should  to  the  breast  of  Nature  have  gone  back 
With  all  my  resolutions,  all  my  hopes, 
A  Poet  only  to  myself/ 

Wordsworth's  first  little  volume  of '  Descriptive  Sketches ' 
came  out  in  the  year  after  'The  Pleasures  of  Memory.' 
Coleridge  was  at  Cambridge,  where  he  had  jusl  gained 
the  medal  for  a  Greek  ode,  and  where  he  was  regarded 
only  as  the  revolutionist  in  politics  and  the  heretic  in 
religion.  South ey  had  not  jet  entered  at  Balliol,  where 
he  was  afterwards  regarded  in  precisely  the  same  light 
as  that  in  which  Coleridge  stood  at  Cambridge.  Of  those 
who  may  properly  be  described  as  his  contemporaries, 
Eogers  was,  therefore,  some  years  in  advance.  He  had 
come  to  fame  before  any  one  of  them  had  been  heard  of, 
and  he  survived  them  all. 

The  published  criticisms  on  *  The  Pleasures  of  Mem- 
ory' in  the  periodicals  of  the  day  have  already  been 
spoken  of.  The  chief  objection  urged  was  that  of  the 
*  Critical  Review,'  which  discovered  bad  grammar  in  the 
eight  lines,  now  only  six,  which  describe  *  the  intrepid 
Swiss  that  guards  a  foreign  shore ; '  and  strongly  ob- 
jected to  the  lines,  — 

*  That  hall  where  once  in  antiquated  state 
The  chair  of  justice  held  the  grave  debate  ;  * 

on  the  ground  that  figuratively  speaking  the  chair  of 
justice  might  hear,  but  could  not  '  holdj  the  debate.' 
Rogers,  however,  appears  to  have  taken  the  same  view 
of  the  recommendations  of  critics  which  was  taken  by 
Burns. 


DR.  PARR'S   CRITICISMS.  193 

When  Mr.  Eamsay  of  Ochtertyre  asked  Burns  whether 
the  literary  men  of  Edinburgh  had  improved  his  poems 
by  their  criticisms,  *Sir,'  said  the  poet,  Hhese  gen- 
tlemen remind  me  of  some  spinsters  in  my  country 
who  spin  their  thread  so  fine  that  it  is  neither  fit  for 
weft  nor  woof.'  He  said  he  had  not  changed  a  word, 
except  one  to  please  Dr.  Blair.  Rogers  probably  changed 
a  few  words, —  not  to  please  Dr.  Parr,  but  in  consequence 
of  Dr.  Parr's  criticisms.  He  sent  the  Doctor  an  illus- 
trated edition  of  the  poem  in  1796,  and  received  the 
following  characteristic  letter  of  acknowledgment  and 
criticism :  — 

Dr.  Parr  to  S,  Rogers. 

*  Hatton,  June  14, 1796. 
*  Dear  Sir,  —  With  pleasure  — ■  no,  it  was  often  with 
delight,  it  was  sometimes  even  with  ecstasy,  it  was  with 
approbation  almost  always,  that  I  have  read  your  poem 
on  Memory.  The  topics  are,  indeed,  chosen  most  per- 
tinently and  even  happily.  The  imagery  is  rich  and 
varied,  the  versification  is  near  perfection,  —  and  so  near 
that  I  must  entreat  you  with  a  little  revisal  and  a  little 
effort  to  make  it  quite  perfect.  Your  Muse  is  so  gay 
without  levity,  and  so  serious  without  gloominess,  that 
she  would  have  tamed  the  surly  genius  of  Johnson  him- 
self. She  holds,  and  has  a  right  to  hold,  converse  with 
the  spirits  of  Shen stone  and  Goldsmith  and  Gray.  Be- 
lieve me,  dear  sir,  when  I  tell  you  that  my  mind,  jaded 
as  it  has  been  even  to  indifference  and  insensibility 
upon  the  common  objects  of  poetry  when  treated  of  by 
common  minds,  was  roused  and  refreshed  by  the  uncom- 
mon excellencies  of  your  most  charming  poem.  I  love 
the  work  and  I  love  the  artist  so  well  that  without  fur- 
ther preamble  I  will  tell  him  of  the  passages  which  do 
not  satisfy  me. 

13 


194  EAllLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 


*  Page  15 ;  "  resigned "  is  surely  a  feeble  epithet  to 
happiness,  nay,  it  is  an  improper  one.  Eesignation 
may  make  us  happy,  but  happiness  does  not  make  us 
resigned.^ 

'  Page  17.^  What  do  you  mean  by  "  the  Sibyl's  mut- 
tered call,"  and  who  is  the  Sibyl  ?  And  by  "  muttered  " 
call  do  you  mean  a  call  that  was  given  in  a  muttering 
tone  ?     To  me  this  is  quite  enigmatical. 

^  In  the  same  page  — 

"  To  learn  the  color  of  my  future  years.'* 

Does  the  word  "  learn  "  quite  harmonize  with  the  word 
"  color "  ?  Each  expression  is  good  by  itself,  but  they 
are  not  well  joined  together  here,  and  the  transition  is 
too  violent  from  a  dignified  literal  word  "  learn  "  to  the 
vivid  metaphorical  word  "  color." 


1  *  As  when  in  ocean  sinks  the  orb  of  day. 

Long  on  the  wave  reflected  lustres  play  ; 
Thy  tempered  gleams  of  happiness  resigned 
Glance  on  the  darkened  mirror  of  the  mind.' 

2  *  Down  by  yon  hazel  copse,  at  evening,  blazed 

The  Gypsy's  fagot ;  there  we  stood  and  gazed,  — 

Gazed  on  her  sunburnt  face  with  silent  awe, 

Her  tattered  mantle,  and  her  hood  of  straw  ; 

Her  moving  lips,  her  caldron  brimming  o'er ; 

The  drowsy  brood  that  on  her  back  she  bore. 

Imps,  in  the  bam  with  mousing  owlet  bred, 

From  rifled  roost  at  nightly  revel  fed  ; 

Whose  dark  eyes  flashed  through  locks  of  blackest  shade. 

When  in  the  breeze  the  distant  watch-dog  bayed:  — 

And  heroes  fled  the  Sibyl's  muttered  call. 

Whose  elfin-prowess  scaled  the  orchard-wall. 

As  o'er  my  palm  the  silver  piece  she  drew. 

And  traced  the  line  of  life  with  searching  view. 

How  throbbed  my  fluttering  pulse  with  hopes  and  fears. 

To  learn  the  color  of  my  future  years  ! ' 


DR.  PARR'S  CRITICISMS.  195 

^PagelS:  — 

"  Unconscious  of  the  kindred  earth 
That  faintly  echoed  to  the  voice  of  mirth."* 

I  really  do  not  know  what  you  mean  by  "  the  kindred 
earth  "  which  faintly  echoes,  etc. 
*Pagel9:  — 

"...  whose  every  word  enlightened."  * 

The  use  of  "  every  "  is  rather  too  pretty ;  and,  indeed,  is 
the  only  prettyism  I  have  seen,  and  therefore  it  strikes 
the  more,  as  being  more  contrary  to  the  general  purity 
and  elegance  of  the  style. 
'  Page  21:  — 

"...  yet  all  with  magic  art 
Control  the  latent  fibres  of  the  heart."  * 

1  *  On  yon  gray  stone,  tliat  fronts  the  chancel  door. 
Worn  smooth  by  busy  feet  now  seen  no  more. 
Each  eve  we  shot  the  marble  through  the  ring, 
"When  the  heart  danced,  and  life  was  in  its  spring  ; 
Alas  !  unconscious  of  the  kindred  earth, 
That  faintly  echoed  to  the  voice  of  mirth.' 

'  *  Guides  of  my  life  !  Instructors  of  my  youth ! 
"Who  first  unveiled  the  hallowed  form  of  Trath  ! 
Whose  every  word  enlightened  and  endeared, 
In  age  beloved,  in  poverty  revered. 
In  Friendship's  silent  register  ye  live. 
Nor  ask  the  vain  memorial  Art  can  give.* 

•  *  Lulled  in  the  countless  chambers  of  the  brain, 
Our  thoughts  are  linked  by  many  a  hidden  chain. 
Awake  but  one,  and  lo,  what  myriads  rise  1 
Each  stamps  its  image  as  the  other  flies. 
Each,  as  the  various  avenues  of  sense 
Delight  or  sorrow  to  the  soul  dispense. 
Brightens  or  fades  ;  yet  all  with  magic  art 
Control  the  latent  fibres  of  the  heart.' 


196  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

The  philosophy  is  here  better  than  the  poetry;  each 
thought  "  stamps  its  image,"  each  "  brightens  or  fades/' 
Here  we  have  imagery,  very  just  and  distinct  and  yet 
varied.  But  is  not  the  imagery  rather  too  remote  from 
that  which  precedes,  when  we  are  told  that  thoughts 
"  control  the  latent  fibres "  ?  My  friend,  you  do  not 
lead  my  fancy,  but  you  drag  it  after  you  here.  Perhaps, 
too,  I  am  not  quite  pleased  with  the  word  "  dispense  " 
as  applied  to  the  "  varied  avenues  of  sense  j "  avenues  do 
not  dispense. 
<  Page  24 :  — 

"  All  touched  the  talisman's  resistless  spring."  * 

This  line,  though  intelligible,  is  obscure.  I  have  many 
objections,  and  will  state  them  to  you.  In  the  two  pre- 
ceding lines  we  have  ornamental  description,  and  orna- 
ment, too,  which  throws  over  the  mind  many  strong 
images,  well  adapted  to  the  scenery,  as  it  affects  the 
senses ;  but,  my  friend,  is  there  not  danger  of  confusion, 
when,  having  recalled  such  images  so  pleasing  to  the 
senses,  you  proceed  in  bold  metaphor  to  speak  of  the 
operations  of  the  mind  ?  To  me  it  is  quite  enigmatical. 
And  consider,  too,  after  the  metaphor  of  the  talisman  we 
have  another  metaphor  of  "busy  tribes"  that  are  "on 
the  wing,"  and  do  you  think  that  touching  a  spring  leads 
us  to  think  of  beings  on  the  wing  ?  ^  I  think  these  meta- 
phors do  not  follow  one  another  well,  and  when  two 
metaphors  immediately  succeed  such  vivid  description  of 
natural  scenery  I  feel  my  mind  confounded  and  fatigued. 

^  *So  Scotia's  Queen,  as  slowly  dawned  the  day. 
Rose  on  her  couch,  and  gazed  her  soul  away. 
Her  eyes  had  blessed  the  beacon's  glimmering  height, 
That  faintly  tipped  the  feathery  surge  with  light  ; 
But  now  the  morn  with  Orient  hues  poi-trayed 
Each  castled  cliff  and  brown  monastic  shade  ; 
All  touched  the  talisman's  resistless  spring, 
And  lo,  what  busy  tribes  were  instant  on  the  wing  ! ' 


DR.  PARR'S  CRITICISMS.  197 

*Page26:  — 

"  When  at  his  feet  .  .  .  the  sage  .  .  .  reposed."  ^ 

If  you  use  "  when  "  it  should  be  when  Tully  found  him 
reposing ;  if  you  put  "  where  "  the  passage  will  be  right. 
Perhaps  you  were  frightened  by  seeing  the  word  "  where  '* 
follow  so  close  in  the  next  sentence.  I  am  not  quite 
satisfied  with  the  line  where  you  say  that  ''his  youth  in 
sweet  delusion  hung."  ^  To  hang  in  delusion  is  at  least 
unusual,  and  though  it  be  a  fact  that  this  happened 
when  Cicero  was  young,  yet  the  circumstance  of  youth 
does  not  add  to  the  effect ;  therefore  I  would  have 
avoided  the  word  "youth,"  and  have  endeavored  to 
express  it  in  a  plainer  way  as  that  which  happened 
while  he  was  young.  His  mind  felt  the  charming 
delusion  when  he  was  young. 
'  Page  27:  — 

"  What  though  the  fiend's  torpedo-touch  arrest !  ** 

Dear  sir,  this  line  shocked  me.  The  character  of  a 
fiend  is  accompanied  by  an  idea  of  violence  with  which 
"  torpedo-touch "  ill  accords  ;  and  again  I  do  not  like 
the  word  "arrest"  as  joined  to  "torpedo-touch;"  for 
surely  to  arrest  suggests  some  notion  of  vehemence  and 
force  wliich  is  very  ill-connected  with  the  touch  of  a 
torpedo.  No  touch  can  arrest,  so  far  as  touch  is  a  slight 
operation ;  and  then  a  torpedo-touch  conveys  to  me,  as  I 

1  * ...  As  now  at  Virgil's  tomb 

We  bless  the  shade,  and  bid  the  verdure  bloom  ; 
So  Tully  paused,  amid  the  wrecks  of  Time, 
On  the  rude  stone  to  trace  the  truth  subhrae  ; 
When  at  his  feet,  in  honored  dust  disclosed, 
The  immortal  Sage  of  Syracuse  reposed.' 

2  The  line  was  altered.     It  now  reads  — 

'  And  as  he  long  in  sweet  delusion  hung.' 


198  EARLY  LIFE   OF   SAMUEL   ROGERS. 

told  you  before,  an  idea  of  benumbing  properties  ^  ratber 
than  of  those  which  arrest  or  seize,  and  by  seizing  stop 
the  motions  of  the  mind.  I  know  you  can  say  that  a 
torpor  seizes,  but  I  should  not  say  the  touch  of  a  tor- 
por seizes,  nor  should  I  choose  to  say  that  this  act  of 
seizing  had  checked  any  preceding  emotion,  whether 
habitual  or  not.  When  we  so  use  the  word  "  seize,''  we 
mean  to  express  the  suddemiess  of  the  effect,  rather  than 
the  vehemence  of  the  cause.  Again,  in  the  same  page 
I  do  not  find  the  word  "  erase  "  very  appropriate  to  the 
word  "school,"  though  it  agrees  well  enough  with  the 
epithet  "  iron."  ^  Still,  my  friend,  you  must  not  have 
the  properties  of  the  subject  merged  in  the  properties  of 
the  adjunct ;  and  wishing  the  subject  were  better  adapted 
to  the  action  of  erasing,  I  must  beg  leave  to  express  my 
doubt  on  the  propriety  of  the  epithet  *'  iron  "  as  applied 
under  any  circumstances  to  the  subject  "school."  I 
cannot  admit  the  transposition  of  "  iron  school  of  war  " 
for  the  "school  of  iron  war,"  except  in  dithyrambic, 
nonsensical,  meteoric  odes. 
'  Page  30:  — 

**  And  win  each  wavering  purpose  to  relent 
With  warmth  so  mild,  so  gently  violent." 

I  don't  understand  these  two  lines.     We  generally  say 
that  a  sttibborn,  not  a  wavering,  purpose   relents;   and 

1  It  may  be  desirable  to  remind  a  younger  generation  of  readers  that 
the  torpedo  of  their  grandfathers  is  an  electrical  ray-fish  {Torpedo  vul- 
garis), commonly  called  *  the  cramp  fish.' 

2  The  lines  here  criticised  are  — 

*  What  though  the  iron  school  of  War  erase 
Each  milder  virtue  and  each  softer  grace  ; 
What  though  the  fiend's  torpedo-touch  arrest 
Each  gentler,  purer  impulse  of  the  breast ; 
Still  shall  this  active  principle  preside, 
And  wake  the  tear  to  Pity's  self  denied.' 


DR.  PARK'S  CRITICISMS.  199 

pray  what  do  you  mean  by  "  with  warmth  so  mild,  so 
gently  violent "  ?    I  am  all  confusion  about  it. 
<  Page  31:  — 

"These,  when  to  guard  Misfortune's  sacred  grave, 
Will  firm  Fidelity  exult  to  brave." 

The  first  line  is  obscure.  You  mean  to  say  when  em- 
ployed, or  when  designing,  to  guard  the  grave,  but  you 
have  not  said  it ;  and  after  not  finding  your  meaning  in  the 
first  line  we  expect  to  find  it  in  the  second,  and  expect- 
ing to  find  it  [not  finding  it,  is  clearly  the  meaning]  in 
the  second  we  are  driven  back  to  the  first,  and  even  there 
we  cannot  find  it  without  an  effort,  —  without  supplying 
something  which  is  not  expressed.  This  effort  is  made 
more  painful  from  the  structure  of  the  second  line,  which 
is  very  artificial.  "  These,  will  firm  Fidelity  exult  to 
brave,"  I  could  understand  pretty  well,  if  the  other  con- 
struction, "when  to  guard  Misfortune's  sacred  grave," 
did  not  intervene.  But  the  passage  so  intervening  makes 
me  look  for  aid  from  the  second,  which  aid  is  not  fur- 
nished ;  and  the  second,  where  the  ideas  are  thrown  at 
a  distance  from  the  subject  to  which  it  relates,  finds  em- 
barrassment upon  embarrassment,  — embarrassment  from 
the  intervening  passage,  and  embarrassment  from  its  own 
inverted  position  in  tracing  its  way  back  to  that  which 
Fidelity  exults  to  brave.  Besides,  my  friend,  I  do  not 
relish  the  personification  of  Fidelity,  nor  do  I  much  ad- 
mire the  epithet  "  firm,"  nor  do  I  much  approve  of  the 
word  "  exult."  Do  you  think  that  exultation  is  a  very 
obvious  property  of  fidelity  ?  And  if  it  is  not  obvious 
what  are  the  circumstances  which  make  it  proper  on  this 
occasion  ?     I  see  none.     Pray  reconsider  the  lines.^ 

1  It  may  be  well  to  quote  the  whole  passage,  to  the  last  two  lines  of 
which  this  criticism  applies  :  — 

*  Recall  the  traveller,  whose  altered  form 
Has  borne  the  buffet  of  the  mountain  storm  ; 


200  EARLY  LIFE   OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

*Page45:  — 

"...  presumes  its  base  control.** 

Is  this  quite  accurate  ?     I  think  otherwise.^ 
^PageSO:  — 

"  So  richly  cultured,  every  native  grace 
Its  scanty  limits  he  forgets  to  trace.'* 

My  ear  is  hurt  with  its  scanty  limits,  and  my  under- 
standing is  totally  at  a  loss  to  conjecture  what  you  mean.^ 

"  Time's  sombrous  touches  soon  correct  the  piece, 
Mellow  each  tint,  and  bid  each  discord  cease ; 
A  softer  tone  of  light  pervades  the  whole. 
And  breathes  a  pensive  languor  o'er  the  soul." 

My  mind,  I  am  sure,  feels  here  a  very  strange  discord 
indeed.  Again  and  again  I  have  had  occasion  to  tell 
authors  that  one  metaphor  never  can  be  worked  into  an- 
other. I  remember  in  a  famous  speech  of  Lord  Mans- 
field's about  Wilkes  he  was  guilty  of  confounding  two 
metaphors.  He  spoke  of  "  the  color  of  his  life,"  and  so 
far  was  well.     But  he  added  to  the  word  "  color  "  some 

And  who  will  first  his  fond  impatience  meet  ? 

His  faithful  dog  's  already  at  his  feet ! 

Yes,  though  the  porter  spurn  him  from  the  door, 

Tho'  all  that  knew  him,  know  his  face  no  more, 

His  faithful  dog  shall  tell  his  joy  to  each, 

"With  that  mute  eloquence  which  passes  speech.  — 

And  see,  the  master  but  returns  to  die ! 

Yet  who  shall  bid  the  watchful  servant  fly  ? 

The  blasts  of  heaven,  the  drenching  dews  of  earth. 

The  wanton  insults  of  unfeeling  mirth, 

These,  when  to  guard  Misfortune's  sacred  grave, 

Will  firm  Fidelity  exult  to  brave.' 

1  The  line  is  altered  to  —  '  assumes  its  base  control.* 

2  The  lines  now  read,  — 

'So  rich  the  culture,  tho'  so  small  the  space. 

Its  scanty  limits  he  forgets  to  trace.' 


DR.  PARR'S  CRITICISMS.  201 

otKer  metapliorical  term,  completely  heterogeneous.  I 
forget  what  it  was,  and  am  a  dunce  for  forgetting  it, 
though  at  this  moment  I  remember  a  stupid  attempt  of 
a  stupid  antiquarian  to  vindicate  the  learned  judge  by 
supposing  that  he  alluded  to  Heraldry.  Lord  Mansfield's 
speech  was  for  a  time  admired,  and  when  I  attacked  it, 
I  never  found  a  man  of  sense  undertake  its  defence. 
Having  fetched,  like  Parson  Adams,  a  stride  across  the 
room,  and  brandished  my  pipe,  I  suddenly  experience 
the  "  Pleasures  of  Memory."  Lord  Mansfield's  word  was 
"  armed  "  —  "  has  armed  the  color  of  my  life."  His  life 
might  be  armed,  but  the  color  of  it  could  not  be.  I 
return  from  Lord  Mansfield  to  a  better  man  and  a  better 
writer.  My  friend,  you  pass  too  quickly  from  painting  to 
music ;  from  the  sense  of  seeing  to  the  sense  of  hear- 
ing. There  are,  it  is  true,  some  words  which,  belonging 
originally  to  one  sense,  are  without  violence  transferred 
to  another.  So,  sweet,  from  taste,  is  applied  to  sound, 
and  even  to  the  features  of  a  countenance ;  so,  soft,  from 
feeling,  is  applied  both  to  notes  and  pictures.  I  allow 
much  to  the  laws  and  even  caprices  of  association  ;  I 
allow  much  to  the  authority  of  custom,  which  predomi- 
nates not  only  in  the  cases  just  now  mentioned,  but  in 
many  other  metaphorical  words,  which  having  originally 
a  mere  literal  sense  are  also  used  in  a  metaphorical  sense 
with  such  frequency  that  we  hardly  perceive  them  to  be 
metaphorical.  But  none  of  these  concessions  will  avail 
towards  your  justification.  My  concessions  go  to  single 
words.  But  in  your  poem  we  have  more  than  single 
words :  we  have  a  train  of  images,  we  have  a  succession 
of  metaphors  ;  and  when  the  first  metaphor  has  been 
preserved  pure,  many  of  its  appropriate  terms  are  inter- 
mingled with  a  second,  and  a  distinct  and  quite  hetero- 
geneous metaphor.  I  cannot  bear  the  expression  of  "a 
tone  of  light."  A  soft  tone  can,  but  a  soft  light  cannot, 
"  breathe  a  pensive  languor."    Well,  but  even  supposing 


202  EAKLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

that  you  had  preserved  the  second  metaphor  from  sound 
from  all  mixture  of  terms  borrowed  from  music,  still  I 
should  say  that  to  pass  so  suddenly  from  one  metaphor 
to  another,  from  the  effects  of  one  sense  to  the  effects  of 
another  sense,  would  be  a  faulty  accumulation  of  imagery  : 
for  you  will  observe  that  you  are  not  speaking  literally 
of  sound  or  literally  of  colors,  but  of  both  metaphori- 
cally, and  according  to  my  judgment  metaphors  so 
remote  ought  not  to  succeed  each  other  so  closely,  more 
especially  they  ought  not,  because  they  are  applied  to 
one  and  the  same  subject,  —  the  mind ;  and  because  in 
truth  they  are  describing  one  and  the  same  operation 
or  affection  of  that  mind.  Take  either  of  them  away, 
leave  the  picture  and  remove  the  music,  or  leave  the  mu- 
sic and  remove  the  picture,  and  in  either  case  you  will 
have  sufficiently  expressed  your  meaning.  I  see  what 
it  was  which  produced  this  confusion.  The  unlucky 
word  "discord"  has  produced  all  this  discord.  My 
friend,  I  have  observed  in  poets,  and  indeed  in  a^ 
speakers,  that  the  mention  of  one  metaphorical  word 
leads  the  writer  or  speaker  into  the  expansion  of  the  corre- 
spondent metaphor  at  full.     Thus  in  "Cymbeline,"  — 

*'  Second  Gentleman.     You  speak  him  far. 

First  Gentleman.  —  I  do  extend  him,  sir,  within  himself, 
Crush  him  together  rather  than  unfold 
His  measure  duly." 

So  in  Horace,  Sat.  i.  — 

"  Dum  ex  parvo  nobis  tantundem  haurire  relinquas, 
Cur  tua  plus  laudes  cumeris  granaria  nostris  ?  "        / 

Having  dropped  the  word  haurire  he  goes  on  with  the 
metaphor  suggested  by  it  at  full,  — 

"  Ut,  tibi  si  sit  opus  liquidi  non  amplius  urnd^ 
Vel  cyatlio,  et  dicas  ;  Magno  dejiumine  mallem 
Quam  ex  hoc  fontictUo  tantundem  sumere." 


DH.  PARR'S  CRITICISMS.  203 

I  could  quote  you  several  other  instances,  but  these 
are  enough  for  my  purpose,  and  will  show  you  the  train 
of  your  own  ideas.  What  you  have  in  common  with 
Shakspeare  and  Horace  is  that  one  metaphorical  term 
led  you  on  to  a  complete  metaphor.  A  difference  between 
you  is  that  they  preserve  the  metaphor  well,  and  that 
you  have  not  preserved  it.  You  run  on  from  discordant 
tints  to  discordant  sounds,  to  both  of  which  you  meant 
to  apply  the  correction  of  time,  and  unfortunately  w^hen 
you  got  to  the  sounds  you  mingled  with  them  the  terms 
which  belonged  to  the  tints.^ 

^Page  54:  "As  the  stern"  and  "as  when"  in  the 
third  line  afterwards,  seem  to  me  unfinished  writing."^ 

'Page  59:  "Tenderer  tints."  The  comparative  here 
is  very  harsh  to  my  ear,  and  surely  it  is  unusual.^ 

'The  close  of  the  tale  of  Florio  is  admirably  to  your 
purpose,  and  is  well  told ;  but  the  introduction  to  it  is  far 
too  long  and  too  much  encumbered  with  circumstantial 
description.  Florio,  by  accident  as  it  afterwards  appears, 
meets  the  lady.  But  what  was  he  doing  before  ?  Was 
he  merely  wandering?  So  it  should  seem.  But  why, 
then,  so  much  description  lavished  on  the  scenery  ?   There 

1  The  line  was  altered,  and  now  reads  — 

*  And  steals  a  pensive  languor  o'er  the  soul.* 

2  This,  too,  was  altered,  and  the  lines  now  read — 

*  As  the  stern  grandeur  of  a  Gothic  tower 
Awes  us  less  deeply  in  its  morning  hour. 
Than  when  the  shades  of  Time  serenely  fall. 
On  every  broken  arch  and  ivied  wall.' 

*  The  lines  are  — 

*  Fair  was  her  form  ;  but  who  can  hope  to  trace 
The  pensive  softness  of  her  angel  faceV 

Can  Virgil's  verse,  can  Raphael's  touch,  impart 
Those  finer  features  of  the  feeling  heart. 
Those  tenderer  tints  that  shim  the  careless  eye, 
And  in  the  world's  contagious  climate  die  ? ' 


204  EAKLY  LIFE  OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

is  no  interest  awakened  about  Morio  for  near  two  pages, 
because  we  do  not  see  any  purpose  he  had  in  view.    It  is 
a  charming  tale ;  pray  reconsider  the  introductory  parts. 
^Page67;  — 

"  Each  ready  flight  at  Mercy's  call  Divine 
To  distant  worlds  that  undiscovered  shine." 

What  is  the  meaning  of  "  each  ready  flight "  ?  To  me  it 
is  nearly  unintelligible.  The  structure,  too,  displeases  me. 
My  friend,  let  us  suppose  this  passage  right.  Every  par- 
ticular introduced  by  the  word  "  each  "  has  certain  effects 
separately  assigned  to  it.  Very  well !  But  when  you  come 
to  the  last  line  to  describe  their  joint  effects  my  mind  is 
not  sufficiently  severed  from  the  particular  cause  and  ef- 
fects immediately  preceding,  on  which  you  have  bestowed 
three  lines.  (On  looking  again  I  suspect  "  undiscovered 
shine  "  refers  to  "  worlds."  Be  it  so.  What  is  a  "  ready 
flight,"  and  how  does  a  flight  "  fling  its  living  rays  "  ?  My 
mistake  is  a  proof  that  you  have  not  written  clearly.)^ 
Where  the  particulars  in  detail  are  so  fully  detailed  you 

1  The  passage  referred  to  in  the  above  criticism  is  as  follows.     Speak- 
ing of  *  the  enchantress  Memory  *  the  poet  says  :  — 

*  Bat  is  her  magic  only  felt  below? 

Say  thro'  what  brighter  realms  she  bids  it  flow? 
To  what  pure  beings,  in  a  nobler  sphere, 
She  yields  delight  but  faintly  imaged  here: 
All  that  till  now  their  rapt  researches  knew, 
Not  called  in  slow  succession  to  review; 
But,  as  a  landscape  meets  the  eye  of  day, 
At  once  presented  to  their  glad  survey  1 

*  Each  scene  of  bliss  revealed,  since  chaos  fled, 
And  dawning  light  its  dazzling  glories  spread; 
Each  chain  of  wonders  that  sublimely  glowed, 
Since  first  Creation's  choral  anthem  flowed; 
Each  ready  flight,  at  Mercy's  call  Divine 

To  distant  worlds  that  undiscovered  shine; 

Full  on  her  tablet  flings  its  living  rays, 

And  all,  combined,  with  blest  eff'ulgence  blaze.* 


LETTER  FROM  WILLIAM  GILPIN.  205 

should  not  have  included  under  the  same  couplet  a  part 
of  one  particular  effect  and  the  aggregate  effect  of  all 
the  preceding  particulars.  There  is  something  awkward 
in  this.  And  so  much  by  way  of  stricture,  were  I  to  put 
my  commendations  on  paper  they  would  fill  six  sheets. 

'Not   knowing  your   address  I  write  to  you   at  Dr. 
Bancroft's,  and  pray  present  my  best  respects  to  him. 
*  I  am,  most  sincerely  yours, 

'S.  Pabr.' 

Another  letter  from  one  of  the  best  known  men  of 
his  time  seems  to  have  been  called  forth  by  a  present 
from  Rogers  similar  to  that  sent  to  Dr.  Parr.  The  Rev. 
William  Gilpin  writes :  — 

*  ViCAESHiLL,  July  23, 1796. 

^  I  received,  my  dear  sir,  your  agreeable  packet,  and 
return  you  many  thanks  for  it,  both  as  it  was  a  token 
of  your  esteem  and  as  it  was  the  vehicle  of  much  real 
pleasure  and  amusement.  I  am  a  great  lover  of  nature, 
and  find  it  is  an  instrument  on  which  you  have  the  art  of 
playing  many  a  pleasant  tune. 

'  But  now,  my  dear  sir,  you  must  not  call  my  taste  in 
question  for  not  having  read  your  poem  before.  Heard 
of  it  I  often  have.  But  as  I  rarely  go  out  of  my  own 
parish,  and  live  in  a  neighborhood  which,  though  a  very 
agreeable  one,  is  not  very  literary,  I  have  seldom  the 
opportunity  of  seeing  anything  new  but  what  I  purchase 
myself  ;  and  I  have  been  so  often  disappointed  with  new 
publications  that  I  have  at  length  learned  a  frugal  les- 
son, —  that  of  bridling  my  curiosity,  which,  though  often 
the  handmaid  of  science,  is  as  often  the  companion  of 
folly.  From  the  little  acquaintance,  however,  I  had  with 
you,  I  conceived  I  should  not  be  disappointed  in  the 
present  case,  and  therefore  sent  for  a  copy,  which  I 
received  the  day  after  I  got  yours. 


206  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

'Scaleby  Castle  came  often  into  my  mind  as  I  read 
it ;  which,  though  in  some  degree  faded,  is  still  a  well- 
colored  picture  in  my  memory.  The  old  mansion  frown- 
ing through  the  trees  —  once  the  calm  scene  of  many  a  simple 
sport  —  the  hollow  tower  —  the  hospitable  hall  —  the  dusky 
furniture  —  the  garden^ s  desert  path  —  the  martinis  old 
hereditary  nest  —  are  all  ideas  familiar  to  me  ;  starting  to 
life  and  whispering  of  the  past. 

*  I  believe  I  did  not  tell  you  why  Mrs.  Gilpin's  recol- 
lection and  mine  presented  Scaleby  Castle  to  us  in  such 
different  colors.  It  was  equally  familiar  to  us  both  in 
our  youth.  But  I  knew  it  chiefly  in  its  cheerful  days. 
She  was  a  witness  of  its  distressed  state,  when  an  uncle 
of  ours,  the  possessor  of  it,  through  mere  imprudence 
( cause  enough,  you  will  say)  but  without  any  vicious 
propensity,  became  an  unhappy,  embarrassed  man,  and 
was  obliged  to  sell  it. 

^  I  cannot  conclude  my  letter  without  saying  I  think 
the  artist  who  has  adorned  your  volume  is  a  very  con- 
siderable master  both  of  picturesque  composition  and 
expression. 

'  Mrs.  Gilpin  desires  me  to  add  her  best  respects  to 
those  of,  dear  sir, 

*  Your  most  obedient  and  obliged  humble  servant, 

*WiLL.  Gilpin.' 


One  criticism  on  the  poem  which  gave  Eogers  unfail- 
ing amusement  appeared  in  the  *  English  Review,'  in  the 
notice  of  the  fifth  edition.  The  writer  quotes  the  lines 
describing  the  Gypsy,  beginning  ^Down  by  yon  hazel 
copse  at  evening  blazed,'  with  the  approving  statement 
that  '  Cowper's  Gypsy  is  not  portrayed  in  livelier  colors.' 
He  then  marks  the  alliterations  in  the  passage,  and  adds : 
<  We  have  no  objection  to  alliteration,  but  this  writer  is 
too  fond  of  it.'    In  a  note  on  this  subject  of  alliteration 


QUOTABLE  LINES  IN  HIS  POEMS.  207 

the  reviewer  says:    *The  second  part  opens  with  these 

lines,  — 

"  Sweet  Memory,  wafted  by  thy  gentle  gale 
Oft  up  the  dde  of  dme  I  trirn  my  sail." 

Allured  by  the  alliteration  we  are  almost  tempted  to  ^rn 
our  ^ail.' 

The  extracts  I  have  given  from  the  poem  in  the  notes 
to  Dr.  Parr's  letter  will  sufficiently  exhibit  its  character 
to  readers  who  may  as  yet  be  unfamiliar  with  it.  Mr. 
Hay  ward,  one  of  the  most  genial  and  generous  of  Rogers's 
later  critics,  thinks  there  is  no  reason  for  surprise  at  its 
immediate  success.  It  struck,  he  says,  into  the  happy 
medium  between  the  precise  and  conventional  style  and 
the  free  and  natural  one.  Eogers's  only  formidable 
competitor  was  Cowper.  Crabbe's  fame  was  then  limited, 
Darwin  never  had  much,  and  Burns  was  little  known. 
Mr.  Hayward  points  out  with  great  force  the  absence 
from  the  poem  of  any  passages  which  cling  to  the 
memory,  which  haunt  and  startle  and  waylay.  Although 
it  has  long  taken  its  place  as  an  English  classic,  he  says, 
none  of  its  mellifluous  verses  or  polished  images  are 
freshly  remembered  like  the  ^coming  events  cast  their 
shadows  before'  of  Campbell,  or  Scott's  'Oh,  woman,  in 
our  hours  of  ease ! '  or  Moore's  '  Oh,  ever  thus  from 
childhood's  hour ! '  or  Byron's  *  He  who  hath  bent  him 
o'er  the  dead,'  or  Wordsworth's  — 

* .  .  .  creature  not  too  bright  or  good 
For  human  nature's  daily  food.* 

In  spite,  however,  of  this  shrewd  and  just  criticism,  I 
must  point  out  that  there  are  many  expressions  borrowed 
from  Eogers's  '  Pleasures  of  Memory  '  which  have  passed 
into  literature,  though  their  original  source  may  be 
forgotten.  The  'treasured  tales  of  legendary  lore,'  the 
'  dreams  of  innocent  repose,'  the  admirable  line  — 

*  And  the  heart  promised  what  the  fancy  drew ;  * 


208  EARLY  LIFE   OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

and  the  further  line  — 

'  And  breathe  the  soul  of  inspiration  round ;  * 

are  illustrations  from  the  first  page  or  two  of  expressions 
which  have  passed  into  common  use.  The  lines  — 151  to 
156  —  which  commemorate  the  virtues  of  Dr.  Price  and 
other  of  Rogers's  early  teachers  have  a  familiar  sound 
to  readers  who  know  not  whence  they  come :  — 

*  Guides  of  my  life  !  Instructors  of  my  youth  ! 
Who  first  unveiled  the  hallowed  form  of  Truth  1 
Whose  every  word  enlightened  and  endeared ; 
In  age  beloved,  in  poverty  revered  ; 

In  Friendship's  silent  register  ye  live, 
Nor  ask  the  vain  memorial  Art  can  give.' 

Mr.  Hay  ward  says  that  in  the  passage  beginning, — 

*  So  Scotia's  Queen,  as  slowly  dawned  the  day, 
Rose  on  her  couch  and  gazed  her  soul  away '  — 

Rogers  has  never  been  excelled  in  the  art  of  blending 
fancy  and  feeling  with  historic  incident  and  philosophi- 
cal reflection.     Mackintosh  thought  the  closing  lines  of 

*  The  Pleasures  of  Memory  '  equal  to  those  of  ^  The  Dun- 
ciad,'  which  Mr.  Hay  ward  says  is  like  comparing  Virgil's 

*  Apostrophe  to  Marcellus '  with  Homer's  ^  Battle  of  the 
Gods.'     He  quotes  the  lines  :  — 

*  Ah  !  who  can  tell  the  triumphs  of  the  mind 
By  truth  illumined,  and  by  taste  refined  ? 
When  age  has  quenched  the  eye,  and  closed  the  ear, 
Still  nerved  for  action  in  her  native  sphere, 
Oft  will  she  rise  —  with  searching  glance  pursue 
Some  long-loved  image  vanished  from  her  view ; 
Dart  thro'  the  deep  recesses  of  the  Past, 
O'er  dusky  forms  in  chains  of  slumber  cast ; 
With  giant-grasp  fling  back  the  folds  of  night, 
And  snatch  the  faithless  fugitive  to  light. 


POPULAKITY  OF  HIS  POEMS.  209 

So  through  the  grove  the  impatient  mother  flies, 
Each  sunless  glade,  each  secret  pathway  tries ; 
Till  the  thin  leaves  the  truant  boy  disclose, 
Long  on  the  wood-moss  stretched  in  sweet  repose.* 

He  asks  why  verses  like  these  have  failed  to  lay  fast 
and  durable  hold  of  the  public  imagination,  and  thinks 
the  answer  is  that  the  linked  sweetness  is  too  long  and 
elaborately  drawn  out,  and  that  the  very  symmetry  and 
artistic  finish  of  a  production  may  militate  against  its 
general  popularity.  But  this  criticism  begs  the  question. 
Mr.  Hay  ward  did  not  know  how  largely  *  The  Pleasures 
of  Memory '  was  circulated  in  the  generation  to  which  it 
was  first  addressed.  It  did  attain  general  popularit}^. 
It  is  now  a  classic ;  and  classics  are  almost  always  for 
the  few.  Kogers's  poems  are  poems  of  taste  and  culture. 
They  are  adapted  rather  to  smooth  the  raven  down  of 
darkness  till  it  smiles,  than  to  stir  the  blood  and  nerve 
the  arm  and  set  the  soul  on  fire.  Madame  d'Arblay  acci- 
dentally uses  the  fit  expression  with  respect  to  *  The 
Pleasures  of  Memory '  when  she  describes  it  as  ^  that 
most  sweet  poem.'  It  rendered  literature,  as  Mr.  Hay- 
ward  says,  an  ^  invaluable  service  by  its  purity  of 
language  and  chasteness  of  tone  —  which  immediately 
became  the  objects  of  improving  imitation  and  elevating 
rivalry.' 


14 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

Diary  of  literary  visits,  parties,  etc.  —  Dinners  with  Parr,  Cumber- 
land.—  Fox,  Sheridan,  and  Pamela,  at  Stone's. — R.  Sharp. — 
Summer  Journey  to  New  Forest,  etc.  —  Gilpin.  —  Meetings  of 
Club.  —  Cooper,  Priestley,  Tuffin,  Stothard,  Franldin,  etc.  —  Eu- 
melean  Club.  —  Arthur  Murphy.  —  His  stories  of  Foote  and 
Garrick. 

The  success  of  '  The  Pleasures  of  Memory '  gave  Eogers 
at  once  a  high  position  in  the  literary  society  of  the  time. 
He  soon  begins  to  be  spoken  of  by  contemporaries  as 
*  the  poet  Rogers/  or  as  *  Mr.  Rogers,  the  admired  poet.' 
His  society  was  sought ;  and  wherever  he  went  he  was 
pointed  out  as  the  author  of  the  poem  everybody  was 
reading.  This  was  just  the  kind  of  fame  for  which  he 
longed.  He  had  found  the  direction  in  which  his  strength 
lay.  It  was  not  in  the  noise  and  hurry  of  dithyrambic 
odes,  but  in  smooth  and  polished  versification;  not  in 
bursts  of  passion  or  in  great  flights  of  bold  imagination, 
but  in  graceful  elegance  of  movement  and  restrained 
feeling,  that  he  was  able  to  excel  his  contemporaries. 
The  time,  moreover,  was  singularly  fortunate.  The  most 
barren  era  of  English  poetry  was  just  drawing  to  its 
close.  The  laureateship  which  Spenser  had  adorned  in 
the  sixteenth  century,  and  Ben  Jonson  and  Dryden  in 
the  seventeenth,  had  fallen  in  the  eighteenth  to  Colley 
Gibber  and  William  Whitehead  and  Henry  James  Pye, 
and  through  the  whole  century  never  rose  above  the 
level  of  Pye's  immediate  predecessor,  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Warton,  who  had  just  succeeded  to  Whitehead  when 
Rogers's  first  poem  came  out.  It  was  true  that  Gray 
had  declined  it  in  1757  and  Mason  in  1785  j  as  Rogers 


THE  BUSINESS  MAN  AND  THE  POET.  211 

himself  was  destined  to  do  in  1850.  But  Gray  had 
been  in  his  grave  in  Stoke  Poges  churchyard  for  more 
than  twenty  years,  and  Mason  was  chiefly  known  as 
his  biographer,  when  '  The  Pleasures  of  Memory '  ap- 
peared. Cowper  —  who  divides  with  Eogers  the  true 
poetical  chieftainship  of  the  times,  but  whose  popularity 
was  never  as  great  among  the  cultivated  classes  as  that 
of  Rogers  —  was  out  of  society,  cowering  in  the  gloom  of 
religious  melancholy.  It  is  only  possible  to  understand 
the  high  position  which  the  success  of  this  comparatively 
short  poem  gave  to  Rogers  when  we  recollect  that  he 
was  educated  in  the  eighteenth  century,  but  in  the  midst 
of  the  men  by  whom  and  the  influences  by  which  the 
nineteenth  century  was  moulded ;  and  that  he  wrote  the 
poem  by  which  he  was  best  known  in  later  times  before 
the  Lake  School  had  risen,  or  Scott  had  been  heard  of, 
or  Tennyson  was  born. 

It  is  quite  possible  that  the  title  of  the  poem  —  *  The 
Pleasures  of   Memory  '  —  was  suggested  by  Akenside^s 

*  Pleasures  of  Imagination ; '  and  it  is  quite  certain  that 
the  success  of  Rogers's  poem  suggested  to  Campbell  his 

*  Pleasures  of  Hope.'  There  were  the  usual  inquiries 
as  to  its  authorship,  and  in  those  days  it  was  a  surprise 
to  be  told  that  the  new  poet  was  a  young  banker  in  the 
City.  When  Lord  El  don,  then  Sir  John  Scott,  was  told 
of  it,  he  exclaimed :  '  If  Old  Gozzy  [head  of  the  firm  of 
Goslings,  with  whom  he  banked]  even  so  much  as  says 
a  good  thing,  let  alone  writing,  1  will  close  my  account 
with  him  the  next  morning.'  Neither  the  partners  nor 
the  customers  of  the  firm  of  which  Rogers  was  the 
youngest  member  had  this  feeling.  His  father's  letters 
are  full  of  matters  of  business,  all  of  which  he  seems  to 
have  intrusted  to  his  poetic  son  without  the  least  fear 
that  his  pursuit  of  poetry,  as  the  happy  occupation  of  his 
well-earned  leisure,  would  in  any  way  interfere  with  his 
application  to  business.     The  best  business  man  is  per- 


212  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  BOGERS. 

haps  the  one  who  thinks  least  about  it,  and  gets  farthest 
away  from  it  when  business  is  over. 

In  these  early  days  of  his  fame  he  kept  a  diary  of 
his  occasional  visits  to  literary  people  and  conversations 
with  them.  The  habit  was  unfortunately  not  continued 
long;  but  as  in  the  records  of  his  Edinburgh  visit, 
and  his  conversation  at  Miss  Williams's,  so  in  the  diary 
for  1792  and  1793  we  catch  glimpses  of  interesting  and 
sometimes  of  eminent  persons. 

'1792.  —  Paid  two  visits  at  Streatham  this  winter. 
Walked  back  to  London  the  first  time  with  Lysons,  who 
said  Lord  Orford  would  never  go  to  Houghton,  as  it 
would  remind  him  of  the  sale  of  the  pictures.  The  last 
time  saw  Miss  Harriet  Lee  and  Mr.  Ray,  a  very  sensible 
and  engaging  man.  Danced  a  blind  minuet  with  Cecilia, 
and  footed  another  with  her  mother.  Mrs.  Piozzi  read 
me  an  opera  called  "The  Fountains"  in  blank  verse  in- 
terspersed with  songs.  Scene  Dovedale.  It  contained 
some  touching  sentiments,  particularly  a  line  in  a 
woman's  mouth  — 

"  For  independent  only  means  forlorn." 

*  In  January  dined  at  Dilly's  with  Parr,  Cumberland, 
Hoole,  Reed,  Priestley,  etc. 

'  Parr :  "  1  have  written  a  Latin  epitaph  for  Johnson, 
and  the  knowing  ones  will  be  taken  in.  They  expect 
it  to  be  pompous,  as  it  is  written  for  Pomposo,  and  by 
Pomposo  the  Second."  He  mentioned  tangere  as  un- 
classically  used  in  Goldsmith's  epitaph,  and  thundered 
against  the  round-robin  addressed  to  Johnson  to  per- 
suade him  to  write  it  in  English.  He  was  shocked  to  see 
Tom  Warton's  name  in  so  Gothic  a  business.  Speaking 
of  a  lie  against  Watson's  charge:  "It  was  begot  by 
Prejudice  on  Ignorance,  and  Malice  was  its  godfather." 
He  spoke  very  contemptuously  of  Dr.  Ash. 


DR.  PARR  IN  A  RAGE.  213 

*  Cumberland  spoke  of  his  grandfather  Bentley  as 
gentle  and  fond  of  children.  He  would  never  count 
money,  but  desired  it  always  to  be  placed  in  piles  of 
twenty  guineas  on  the  table,  and  he  would  run  his  hand 
over  them  to  feel  that  they  were  all  of  a  height.  When  a 
thief  was  arrested  in  his  pantry,  he  (Bentley)  said :  "  You 
see  you  can't  succeed  in  this  trade  ;  go  and  try  a  better.'' 
When  remonstrated  with  for  dismissing  him,  he  said 
mildly:  "What  more  should  be  done  with  the  fellow? 
He  has  failed  so  egregiously  in  this  instance  he  will  never 
think  of  thieving  again."  Just  before  he  died,  his  wife 
said :  "  I  wish  you  had  harassed  yourself  less  with  criti- 
cism and  controversy,  and  written  more  on  other  sub- 
jects." He  sat  musing  for  a  little  while,  and  then  burst 
into  tears. 

*  Somebody  mentioned  Griffiths,  editor  of  the  "Monthly 
Review."  Cumberland  said  he  did  not  envy  him  his 
place,  it  was  like  the  keeper  of  a  bridewell.  Cumberland 
has  often  found  it  a  House  of  Correction.  Tweddell  said 
if  he  had  a  new  comedy  he  should  sit  in  the  pit.  "'No," 
s^id  Cumberland,  "  sit  in  the  green-room,  and  now  and 
then  take  a  peep  between  the  scenes  to  feel  the  pulse  of 
the  house.  If  it  is  in  good  humor,  well ;  if  not  —  why, 
take  a  walk ! " 

*  Parr  was  afterwards  in  a  rage  with  Cumberland. 
"Why  did  Dilly  ask  me  to  meet  such  a  scoundrel  ?  He 
shall  tell  me  who  I  am  to  meet  next  time.  To  tell 
Priestley  that  to  attack  him  was  to  attack  philosophy, 
and  when  his  back  was  turned  to  abuse  him  as  a  fire- 
brand, an  innovator,  and  a  disturber !  Did  the  fellow 
think  I  should  forget  his  words  ?  And  then  to  bring  up 
his  Epic  Poem.  How  could  I  tell  it  was  his  ?  I  might 
have  found  fault  with  every  line  of  it."  ^ 

1  William  Maltby  was  at  this  party,  and  Dr.  Parr  met  him  a  few 
days  afterwards  and  let  off  his  anger  at  Cumberland's  treatment  of 
Priestley  in  similar  terms  to  those  recorded  by  Rogers.    *  Only  to  think 


214  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

*  I  desired  Dilly  afterwards  to  give  Hoole  and  Cumber- 
land ray  poem.  Hoole  wrote  a  civil  note.^  Cumberland 
called  to  thank  me  and  tell  me  of  its  faults  —  faults 
which  he  himself  had  committed,  and  which  he  hoped  I 
would  hear  from  an  old  writer  —  "  too  rich,  and  too  much 
alliteration,"  and  "the  story  too  obscure."  He  after- 
wards sent  me  "  Calvary." 

*  At  Tuffin's,  in  the  winter,  met  Romney,  Home  Tooke, 
and  Priestley.  Eomney  very  animated  at  times.  Speak- 
ing of  Pitt —  "That  man,"  said  he,  "has  a  nose  turned 
up  at  all  mankind."  Of  Home  Tooke  he  said :  "  His 
brain  has  starved  his  nose."  Spoke  of  Hayley's  agitation 
at  the  acting  of  Eudoxa.  "  I  thought  I  should  have  sunk," 
said  he ;  "I  did  not  dare  to  look  at  him." 

^The  next  day  with  Sharpe  and  Tuffin;  saw  Banks's 
statues,  called  at  E-omney's  and  saw  him,  and  also  saw 
Townley's  collection ;  and  dined  at  the  Grecian. 

*  In  the  autumn  of  last  year  Dr.  Priestley,  Dr.  Kippis, 
Dr.  Moore,  Mr.  Merry,  Captain  Brown,  Major  Montfort, 
Mr.  Sharpe,  and  Captain  Moore  dined  with  me.  When  I 
published  my  poem  Merry  wrote  me  a  very  flattering 
letter,  and  I  dined  with  him  and  his  wife.  He  is  Couht 
of  the  Holy  Eoman  Empire,  which  the  Abbe  Grenet 
procured  for  him.  It  cost  ten  guineas,  and  his  patent  of 
creation  hangs  in  a  frame  in  his  parlor.  He  mentioned 
Sir  James  Murray,  who  by  twelve  questions  could  get  at 
your  thoughts. 

'  In  February,  passed  the  evening  at  Stone's  with  Fox, 

of  Mr.  Cumberland,  that  he  should  have  presumed  to  talk  hefore  me^ 
hcfoi-e  me,  sir,  in  such  terms  of  my  friend  Dr.  Priestley.  Pray,  sir,  let 
Mr.  Dilly  know  my  opinion  of  Mr.  Cumberland,  —  that  his  ignorance  is 
only  equalled  by  his  impertinence,  and  that  both  are  exceeded  by  his 
malice.'  —  Mr.  Dyce's  Porsonianu,  p.  314. 

1  The  note  is  among  Rogers's  letters.  It  is  dated  from  28  Pall  Mall, 
and  expresses  '  the  great  pleasure  he  has  received  from  the  perusal  of 
his  elegant  performance,  which  has  given  pleasure  to  all  Mr.  Hoole's 
friends  who  have  seen  it.' 


CHARLES  FOX  AND  PAMELA.        215 

Sheridan,  O'Brien,  the  Bishop  of  Autun,  Madame  de 
Sillery,  Pamela, —  supposed  to  be  her  daughter, —  Adele 
Princess  of  Orleans,  and  Henriette,  her  niece.  Fox  said : 
"  All  titles  are  equally  ridiculous.  I  believe  Hume  wrote 
up  the  Stuarts  from  a  spirit  of  opposition,  because  it  was 
the  fashion  to  write  them  down.''  He  spoke  French 
fluently ;  said  his  son  (who  is  dumb)  had  ideas  before  he 
had  words,  talked  to  him  with  his  fingers,  and  when  he 
first  entered  the  room  flew  to  receive  him  with  the  most 
lively  pleasure.  In  conversation  his  (Fox's)  countenance 
brightens,  and  his  voice  assumes  a  pleasant  tone.  Dr. 
Priestley  said  afterwards  he  was  improved  in  manners 
since  he  saw  hira  at  Shelburne  House  ten  years  ago, 
when  he  spat  on  the  carpet  and  hurt  Lord  Shelburne, 
who  is  a  man  of  great  neatness.  "  Charles,"  said  Sheri- 
dan, "  have  you  read  Parr's  letter ? "  "I  read  it  last 
week,"  said  Fox.  "  Charles,"  said  Sheridan,  "  received  a 
long  letter  from  Parr,  to  dissuade  hira  from  moving  for 
the  repeal  of  the  Test  Act.  But  as  he  began  with  not 
requiring  him  to  answer  it,  Charles  thought  he  would  go 
a  step  farther  and  not  read  it." 

^  Madame  de  Sillery  has  an  air  of  vivacity.  She  said 
Marmontel  was  an  affected  writer,  of  no  taste  or  genius, 
but  cried  up  by  a  set  of  admirers  in  Paris.  I  mentioned 
this  afterwards  to  Blanchisserie,  secretary  to  the  Embassy, 
an  aristocrat.  "  Tell  her,"  said  he,  "  to  write  as  well.  Her 
best  works  are  her  daughters."  They  are  fine  women. 
He  owned  afterwards  that  he  thought  himself  slighted 
by  her.  He  has  bought  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  house  in 
St.  Martin's  Lane,  and  intends  to  ornament  the  front. 
Pamela  excited  Sheridan's  notice.  (Mirabeau  used  to  be 
at  her  feet.)  She  has  fine  black  eyes,  and  her  skin  is  of 
a  dazzling  whiteness,  but  Adele  struck  me  more,  having 
more  softness  in  look  and  manner.  Her  fine  light  hair 
descended  below  her  knees.  She  plays  delightfully  on 
the  harp.     Pamela  draws.     Saw  them  afterwards  at  the 


216  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

exhibition.  Dr.  Priestley  said  afterwards  that  he  had 
often  heard  Marmontel  read  his  tales  at  Madame  de 
[?  Seran's]  at  Paris,  where  the  literati  met  every  Wednes- 
day evening,  and  that  his  action  was  so  violent  he  was 
afraid  of  sitting  near  him.  It  was  there  also  he  heard 
D'Alembert  deliver  his  famous  eloge  on  Voltaire. 

^In  March  Dr.  Aikin  called  upon  me.  On  the  20th 
of  April  dined  with  Paine  at  William  Morgan's,  a  silent 
man,  but  very  strong  and  emphatic  in  his  language. 
The  memory  of  Joshua  was  given  as  a  toast.  *'  1  would 
not  treat  kings  like  Joshua,"  ^  said  Paine :  "  I  'm  of  the 
Scotch  parson's  opinion  when  he  prayed  against  Louis 
XIV.,  — '  Lord,  shake  him  over  the  mouth  of  hell,  but 
don't  let  liim  drop ! ' ''  He  gave  in  his  turn  "  The  Ke- 
public  of  the  World,''  —  a  sublime  idea. 

^  On  the  23d  dined^  with  the  Antiquarian  Society. 
Nothing  occurred  of  moment.  Sat  by  Lysons,  and  con- 
versed with  Marsh  on  Shakspeare.  Townley,  Daines 
Barrington,^  and  Dr.  Douglas,  the  bishop,^  were  there. 

'  On  the  24th  dined  at  Sharpe's  with  Porson,  who  read 
Will  Whiston's  trial  with  some  humor.  On  the  26th 
with  Lord  Dacre  at  Edison's,  and  attended  the  "  Friends 
of  the  People  "  at  Freemasons'  Hall.  On  the  27th  with 
Dr.  Aikin  and  Dr.  Priestley  at  College  dinner ;  Dr.  A. 
thinks  Moliere  far  superior  to  any  comic  writer  in  this 
country. 

^  On  the  28th  of  May  dined  with  Dr.  Bates  and 
Marsden  and  Major  Montfort  at  Mr.  Kaper's.  Marsden 
thinks  our  words  derived  from  the  Latin  at  second  hand 
through  the  French.     Dr.  Bates  said  that  the  fish  caught 

^  See  Joshua,  chaps,  x.,  xi.,  xii. 

2  The  Hon.  Daines  Barrington,  fourth  son  of  the  first  Lord  Bar- 
rington,  a  lawyer  and  an  antiquary.     He  died  in  1800. 

8  Dr.  John  Douglas,  then  in  his  seventy-first  year.  He  was  made 
bishop  of  Carlisle  in  1787,  translated  to  Salisbury  in  June,  1791,  and 
died  in  1807. 


SUTTON  SHARPE.  217 

in  the  Italian  seas  were  often  boiled  by  being  dropped 
into  the  current  of  a  warm  spring  some  fathoms  below 
the  surface,  and  mentioned  a  curious  sacrifice  to  a  saint 
in  Sicily. 

^  In  June,  dined  at  home  with  the  Barbaulds  and  Dr. 
Bates.  Dr.  B.  had  heard  a  celebrated  singer  sing  an 
ode  of  Anacreon  at  Angelica  Kauffman's  at  Kome.  In 
Sicily  a  lover  must  write  an  ode  to  his  mistress  before 
she  will  listen  to  him. 

^June  21.  —  Set  off  for  Salisbury  Cathedral,  Stone- 
henge,  Wilton,  Bryanston,  Portland  Quarries,  Lulworth 
Castle,  Lulworth  Cove,  Corfe  Castle,  etc.  j  and  met  Sharp 
at  Southampton.' 

This  is  the  first  clear  mention  of  Eichard  Sharp. 
The  Sharpe  named  in  the  earlier  portions  of  the  diary 
is  Sutton  Sharpe,  of  Nottingham  Place,  who  afterwards 
married  Maria  Rogers.  Sutton  Sharpe  was  then  a 
widower,  living  with  his  only  daughter,  Catharine  Sharpe, 
the  heroic  story  of  whose  after-life  I  have  told  in  another 
volume,^  in  which  also  Sutton  Sharpe's  melancholy  his- 
tory is  briefly  narrated.  He  was  a  man  of  much  taste 
and  culture,  and  at  this  time  of  considerable  wealth 
as  a  brewer.  He  had  studied  drawing  at  the  Eoyal 
Academy,  and  lived  on  terms  of  intimate  friendship  with 
Opie,  Shee,  Stothard,  Flaxman,  Bewick,  Hollo  way,  and 
others.  At  his  house  Rogers  made  the  acquaintance  of 
these  eminent  artists,  and  learned  that  love  of  art  which 
distinguished  him  in  after-life.  Boddington,  Richard 
Sharp's  partner^  once  remarked  to  Rogers  in  the  hearing 
of  William  Maltby :  *  You  know,  Rogers,  we  owe  all  these 
tastes  to  Sutton  Sharpe ; '  and  Rogers  himself,  speaking 
to  Sutton  Sharpe's  fourth  son,  the  late  Mr.  William 
Sharpe,  said,  '  William,  all  I  know  of  art  I  learned  from 
your   father.'      A   pencil   drawing  by   Flaxman   shows 

1  Samuel  Sharpe  ;  Egyptologist  and  Translator  of  the  Bible. 


218  EARLY  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Sutton  Sharpe  to  have  been  a  person  of  singularly,  noble 
presence,  though  perhaps  with  more  taste  and  sensibility 
than  resolution  or  energy.  He  was  an  intimate  friend  of 
Porson,  and  among  his  frequent  visitors  were  William 
Maltby,  Samuel  Boddington,  Eichard  Sharp,  and  Home 
Tooke. 

The  journey  which  is  summarized  in  the  last  entry 
taken  from  Eogers's  diary,  is  more  fully  described  in 
another  of  his  journals,  and  the  account  is  worth  repro- 
ducing as  a  sketch  of  southern  England  in  the  early 
days  of  the  French  Kevolution,  and  before  the  Napoleonic 
wars. 

» 

*  June  21,  1792. — Went  in  a  post-coach  from  London 
to  Salisbury.  The  Cathedral  is  the  lightest  and  most 
elegant  piece  of  Gothic  extant.  It  is,  indeed,  so  light  as 
to  lose  in  some  degree  that  grandeur  which  is  attached 
to  magnitude.  The  spectator  at  first  sight  thinks  he 
could  almost  "hang  it  to  his  watch."  Not  that  the 
masonry  is  so  very  curiously  wrought,  for  in  rich  fila- 
gree work  York  Minster  and  the  Cathedral  at  Amiens 
far  excel  it ;  but  the  style  of  its  architecture  is  so  beau- 
tiful, and  the  whole  is  so  happily  put  together  and  so 
neatly  finished,  that  for  a  moment  we  forget  the  sub- 
lime simplicity  of  the  Grecian  school  and  pronounce  it 
to  be  perfection  itself.  When  viewed  from  several  parts 
of  the  close,  it  has  a  very  pleasing  and  picturesque  effect 
through  the  trees. 

*22d.  —  Rode  nine  miles  across  Salisbury  Plain  to 
Stonehenge.  At  the  sixth  stone,  or  soon  afterwards,  it 
presents  itself  on  a  small  elevation.  As  we  approach  it 
it  becomes  an  object  of  importance,  and  is  indeed  most 
interesting  to  a  contemplative  mind.  When  we  consider 
its  great  antiquity  and  the  inexplicable  mystery  in  which 
its  story  is  involved — its  many  barbarous  purposes,  among 
which  was  most  probably  the  sacrifice  of  human  beings^ 


STONEHENGE,  WILTON,  RIDGWAY.  219 

the  sacrifice  of  Romans ;  the  shapeless  masses  that  com- 
pose it,  their  gigantic  size  and  rude  arrangement ;  and, 
to  close  all,  its  solitary  station  in  the  desert,  which  unites 
on  all  sides  with  the  sky  —  we  must  acknowledge  it  to  be 
a  very  sublime  and  imposing  piece  of  scenery.  Proceeded 
to  Wilton.  What  I  thought  there  most  admirable  were ; 
a  Venus  extracting  a  thorn  from  her  foot  —  her  half- 
closed  eyelids  are  strikingly  expressive  of  acute  pain ; 
the  busts  of  Hannibal  and  Brutus  —  the  last  is  evidently 
a  likeness,  and  its  lineaments  are  sufficient  alone  to  tell 
his  history,  the  face  of  a  man  who  could  stab  his  friend 
to  save  his  country ;  a  statue  of  Bacchus  with  a  cup  in 
his  hand  and  poppies  hanging  from  his  shoulders  ;  and 
a  bust  of  Sappho  which  is  exquisitely  beautiful.  The 
"  Assumption  of  the  Virgin  "  by  Raphael,  and  a  Madonna 
by  Carlo  Dolci  (  her  veil  colored  with  ultra-marine)  equal 
to  any  piece  of  that  master,  even  to  Domenichino's  por- 
trait of  his  mistress,  or  the  picture  of  "  Christ  Blessing 
the  Elements  "  at  Burleigh.  Continued  through  an  open 
and  hilly  country  to  Dorchester.  Mr.  Portman's  walk 
at  Bryanston,  near  Blandford,  gave  me,  however,  some 
relief.  It  was  along  a  very  high  green  bank,  near  a 
mile  in  length,  in  many  parts  perpendicular  and  hung 
with  noble  firs  and  forest  trees.  The  Stour  winds  below 
it  through  the  soft  lawns  of  the  Park,  and  then,  skirting 
the  uplands  on  the  opposite  side,  makes  its  exit  with 
the  accompaniment  of  a  little  rock  scenery.  Dorchester 
is  nearly  encircled  with  a  pleasant  sycamore  walk.  Its 
foundations  are  an  inexhaustible  mine  of  Roman  anti- 
quities. I  left  it  in  the  evening,  and  soon  ascending 
Ridgway  Hill  (so  called  from  a  village  that  shelters 
itself  under  it),  was  agreeably  surprised  at  its  summit 
with  a  beautiful  view  of  Weymouth  Bay,  and  the  Isle  of 
Portland  rising  with  its  mountainous  ridge  near  the 
entrance  of  it. 

*  24:th.  —  Went  to  church,  and  heard  a  rustic  band  of 


220  EAELY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

singers  accompanied  by  the  bassoon.  In  the  evening 
rode  on  the  sands,  the  Corso  of  Weymouth ;  and  after- 
wards, from  the  brow  of  a  little  eminence  that  overlooks 
Weymouth,  saw  Portland  and  the  windings  of  the  coast 
as  far  as  Lyme  to  great  advantage.  It  is  an  evening 
view,  and  the  setting  sun  had  shed  its  richest  hues 
over  it. 

*  21th.  —  Kode  to  Upwey,  a  retired  village  near  Eidg- 
way,  to  visit  a  friend  who  had  just  chosen  it  as  a  retreat 
from  the  bustle  and  glitter  of  Paris.  It  was  there  that 
I  saw  him  last,  and  the  contrast  of  the  present  scene 
struck  me  forcibly.  At  dinner,  however,  he  regaled 
me  with  soux>  houilli  and  an  omelette  ;  and  his  parrot 
Jacquant,  his  dog  Azor,  and  an  old  French  horse  on 
which  he  exercised  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne  are  still  his 
favorite  companions.  Eode  with  him  along  a  noble  ter- 
race near  a  mile  in  length,  and  commanding  the  sea,  and 
the  adjacent  downs  pastured  with  sheep  and  swelling 
everywhere  into  tumuli.  Within  a  few  yards  of  his  gar- 
den, under  a  green  hill  and  overshadowed  with  aged 
trees,  is  the  fountain-head  of  the  river  Wey. 

^28^A.  —  Passed  the  ruins  of  Sandford  Castle,  which 
are  situated  on  the  edge  of  a  cliff,  and  when  viewed  from 
a  low  point  make  a  good  picture.  Ferried  over  to  Port- 
land, ascended  through  several  villages,  crossed  the 
island,  and  came  to  a  very  romantic  scene.  The  cliffs 
were  here  very  lofty,  and  formed  a  small  semicircular 
recess.  Towards  their  summits  they  were  partly  hewn 
into  quarries,  the  white  diagonal  strata  of  which  con- 
trasted with  the  gray  and  rugged  crags  interspersed 
among  them.  It  was  a  busy  scene.  A  team  of  horses 
were  continually  ascending  and  descending  by  an  almost 
perpendicular  path,  and  a  boat  was  employed  in  convey- 
ing the  stone  to  a  small  vessel  that  lay  moored  at  the 
entrance.  Above,  on  the  extreme  verge  of  the  precipice, 
were  the  ruins  of  an  old  church  and  of  a  still  older  castle. 


LULWORTH  AND  CORFE  CASTLES.  221 

^2^th. — Kode  to  East  Lulworth,  through  a  well- 
cultivated  country,  the  beauties  of  which  were  blurred 
aud  almost  blotted  out  by  a  wet  mist  that  overspread 
them.  Lulworth  Castle  is  very  aucient  and  has  an  air  of 
great  dignity.  It  consists  of  a  quadrangle,  with  a  round 
tower  at  each  corner,  and  the  gray  hue  of  its  stone  finely 
chastens  the  fresh  green  of  the  trees  in  the  park  around 
it.  The  village  church  has  a  very  handsome  tower,  and 
stands  just  beside  it.  The  effect  of  the  whole  is  beau- 
tiful, but  some  of  the  parts  offend.  A  Grecian  portico 
with  Ionic  pillars  forms  a  singular  entrance  to  an  old 
castle.  The  balustrade  that  runs  round  it,  and  the  Gre- 
cian portico  are  modern  additions,  and  correspond  but  ill 
with  the  sullen  grandeur  of  the  old  structure.  Proceeded 
to  East  Lulworth  Cove,  a  small  basin  nearly  encircled 
with  high  cliffs,  which  affords  a  secure  asylum  to 
the  little  coasting  vessels  that  frequent  it,  and  is,  in- 
deed, a  very  singular  and  romantic  scene.  Proceeded 
over  hills  whitened  with  sheep  to  Corfe  Castle,  the 
situation  of  which  is  high  and  commanding.  Two  draw- 
bridges and  as  many  gateways  lead  to  the  citadel,  and 
its  extensive  walls  give  ample  testimony  to  its  ancient 
consequence.  One  of  its  round  towers  is  fearfully  in- 
clined from  its  base  and  overhangs  a  road  that  is  already 
strewed  with  tremendous  fragments.  A  girl  assured  me 
that  from  her  infancy  she  had  never  passed  it  but  at  full 
speed.  From  hence  to  Wimborne  there  is  a  chain  of 
black  and  melancholy  heaths.  Here  and  there,  indeed, 
we  were  relieved  with  a  little  woodland  scenery,  and  on 
the  left  we  had  an  almost  uninterrupted  view  of  Poole 
Harbor  stretching  across  the  country  like  some  mag- 
nificent river ;  the  sea-gulls  were  flying  over  it,  and  its 
banks  were  bare  and  desolate.  Slept  at  Wimborne,  and 
saw  the  Minster,  which  has  two  square  towers  and  is 
very  ancient.  Entered  the  New  Forest,  which  is  at  first 
dreary  and  black  with  furze,  but  improves  beyond  Eing- 


222  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

wood,  and  at  Stony  Cross  presents  some  grand  distances. 
The  wood  increased  as  we  approached  Southampton,  and 
the  deer  and  other  forest  cattle  enlivened  the  scenery. 

^In  the  evening  rowed  down  to  Netley  Abbey.  The 
ground  on  which  it  stands  is  finely  formed ;  and  ivied 
windows  and  fractured  arches,  and  the  daw  and  the  owl, 
excited  nameless  sensations.  A  door  in  a  dark  passage 
half-intimidated  my  fellow-travellers.  Returned  by  moon- 
light, through  its  old  woods  catching  delicious  views  of 
the  river  ;  ferried  over  the  Itchen. 

^  July  1.  —  Sailed  down  the  river  by  a  fine  breeze  to 
Cowes,  breakfasted  and  proceeded  in  a  chaise  to  Newport. 
Went  in  another  to  Ashey  Down,^  whence  we  saw  the 
Channel  from  the  mouth  of  the  Beaulieu  Eiver  to  Ports- 
mouth and  along  the  Arundel  coast.  To  Nunwell  Down, 
commanding  Brading  Haven,  running  up  the  island  (now 
at  low  water).  Shanklin  Chine  and  village,  the  first  a 
rocky  romantic  glen  that  opens  to  the  sea  and  affords 
shelter  to  some  hanging  cottages, —  the  last  a  most  re- 
tired rural  spot,  the  ground  charmingly  tumbled  about 
and  varied  with  little  woods  and  dingles.  Passed  John 
Wilkes's,  and  dined  at  Steeple.  The  shore  is  here  finely 
broken  and  shut  in  by  a  semicircular  range  of  gray  rocks 
that  not  very  boldly  but  very  picturesquely  overhang  the 
village.  Returned  by  Sir  Rd.  Worsley's,  and  from  the 
Obelisk  hill  in  the  park  commanded  nearly  the  whole 
island.  The  general  face  of  the  country  was  rich,  varied 
with  little  hills  and  woods  and  villages. 

*  July  2.  —  Had  a  pleasant  view  from  a  hill  above 
Newport  commanding  the  course  of  the  river  towards  the 
sea.  Walked  along  the  banks  to  Hurst  Stake,  its  bold 
and  beautiful  twin.  The  succession  of  close  wood  and 
high  meadow,  the  cattle  near  the  brink,  the  sails  gliding 

1  This  part  of  the  journey  was  taken  in  company  with  Richaixi 
Sharp,  whom  he  had  met  at  Southampton. 


AFTON  DOWN,  YARMOUTH,  VICAR'S  HILL.         223 

round  the  hills,  the  soft  uplands  on  the  opposite  side, 
and  Newport  church  tower  among  the  trees, —  these 
were  its  principal  beauties.  Proceeded  round  Carisbrook 
Castle,  which  rises  on  an  elevated  bank,  and  has  some 
dignity;  had  several  grand  reaches  of  the  channel, 
crossed  Afton  Down  and  from  a  field  near  Freshwater 
had  a  foreshortened  view  of  Yarmouth  Eiver ;  it  was 
low  water.  Sailed  from  Yarmouth  to  Lymington  in 
forty  minutes,  the  prospect  of  the  island  and  the  main- 
land very  amusing.  Lymington  falls  to  the  river;  the 
church-window  that  looks  down  it,  and  the  green  mead- 
ows that  rise  directly  in  front,  make  the  perspective  of 
its  street  beautiful.  From  the  Angel  yard  the  river  is 
seen  winding  among  the  trees  in  the  valley  below,  and 
losing  itself  in  the  forest.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the 
street  there  runs  a  pleasant  lime-walk,  commanding  the 
Isle  of  Wight  and  the  Needles.  The  path  to  the  baths 
has  the  same  view,  and  lies  through  the  fields. 

*  Sd.  —  Rode  to  Hordle,  and  had  a  distant  view  of  Lord 
Bute's.  The  coast  here  forms  a  grand  semicircle  in  full 
view  of  the  Needles,  but  it  is  bare  and  desolate. 

'  4:th.  —  Rode  to  Rope  Hill  and  had  a  foreshortened  view 
of  the  river  in  its  course  through  a  rich  valley  to  the  sea ; 
a  fine  grove  of  trees  formed  the  foreground.  Proceeded 
to  Mr.  Morant's,  and  from  the  front  of  his  house  were 
enchanted.  Passed  through  Whitley  Ridge  woods  which 
are  very  fine,  and  crossing  Heathy  Dilton,  returned  by 
Vicar's  Hill,  from  which  we  saw  a  very  fine  and  well- 
wooded  bank  of  Sir  H.  Burrard's. 

*  6th.  —  Passed  Vicar's  Hill,  and  soon  afterwards  by 
turning  a  little  to  the  right  saw  a  beautiful  lake  of  Sir  H. 
Burrard's,  fringed  with  wood.  Passed  Doyley  Park  and 
Pilewall ;  not  a  thing  worth  mentioning  except  the  neat 
cottage  of  a  clergyman's  widow,  shaded  with  willow-trees 
and  hung  with  jessamine ;  and  proceeded  to  Sooley  (or 
Sowley)  Pond  —  that  from  the  farthest  end  presents  a  fine 


224  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

reach  —  but  here  the  Channel  on  the  right,  and  the  moun- 
tainous ridge  of  the  Isle  of  Wight  softened  down  by  dis- 
tance, very  maliciously  arrested  our  attention.  Returned 
through  Norley  Wood,  full  of  encroaching  cottages  and 
now  nearly  felled,  and  descended  to  Boldre  Bridge  that 
commands  a  beautiful  home  view  of  the  river  now  re- 
duced to  a  humble  brook  and  winding  among  the  sedges. 
Came  home  by  Eope  Hill. 

'  (jth.  —  Followed  the  same  track  to  Sowley  Pond. 
Passed  a  slitting-mill,  and  at  Bucklershard  had  a  most 
magnificent  view  of  Beaulieu  Eiver  sweeping  boldly  round 
hanging  woods,  with  the  busy  scene  of  a  dockyard  on  its 
shore.  Dined  at  Beaulieu;  it  was  high  water,  and  the 
lake  above  and  below  the  bridge  and  the  walk  among  old 
oaks  on  the  abbey  side  of  the  river  detained  us  two 
hours.  Proceeded  by  the  Fighting  Cocks  and  through 
the  wild  wood  scenes ;  passed  over  Culverley  Heath,  com- 
manding a  circular  sweep  of  forest,  very  grand  and  ex- 
tensive ;  of  Denny  Walk,  a  very  rich  and  secluded  scene, 
to  the  Lyndhurst  road,  which  we  entered  at  the  sixth 
stone,  —  in  the  grand  avenue  that  extends  to  Brocken- 
hurst.  Followed  the  turnpike  road  by  Eope  Hill  to 
Lymington. 

*  7th.  —  From  Lymington  turnpike,  turned  directly 
through  a  gate  on  the  left,  and  after  having  ridden  a 
little  among  some  woody  scenes,  traversed  a  cheerless 
heath  for  many  miles,  leaving  Wilverley  Lodge,  a  lonely 
and  melancholy  object,  on  the  left,  the  Isle  of  Wight 
visible  on  the  horizon.  At  last  from  Burley  Hill  saw  a 
cultivated  valley  skirted  with  a  chain  of  hanging  woods. 
Turned  through  a  long  narrow  tract  of  shrubwood,  and 
crossing  Mark  way  bottom  flat  and  marshy,  in  which  the 
cattle  were  well  grouped  near  some  water,  ascended  to 
Rhinefield  Lodge,  which  is  seated  among  old  oaks  on 
a  circular  knoll  and  commands  noble  views  over  the 
wooded  scenes  of  the  forest.     It  is  less  rich  and  exteu- 


ROPE   HILL,  LYNDHURST.  225 

sive  than  the  Burley  view,  less  grand  and  simple  than 
Morant's,  but  formed  a  noble  station  for  a  forest  lodge. 
The  buckhounds  sallied  out  at  our  approach,  and  one  of 
the  under-keepers  led  us  into  the  Brockenhurst  road  ; 
over  a  heath  we  proceeded  to  that  village,  and  there  en- 
tered the  turnpike  road  from  Lyndhurst  to  Lymington. 
From  Kope  Hill  there  is  a  delightful  mile,  commanding 
the  river  in  the  valley  with  Vicar's  Hill,  and  Sir  H.  Bur- 
rard's  plantations  on  the  opposite  heights ;  the  Channel 
and  the  Isle  of  Wight  in  the  distance. 

'  8th.  —  Eode  by  Eope  Hill  and  over  Boldre  Bridge  to 
Boldre  Church,  which  is  seated  on  a  hill  and  commands 
pleasant  views  round  it.  Gilpin  read  the  service  and 
preached :  "  Commune  with  your  own  hearts."  His 
manner  was  familiar  and  unaffected ;  his  language  sim- 
ple and  correct.  "  But,  you  say,  it  is  now  your  custom  to 
swear  ;  you  may  soon  make  it  your  custom  not  to  swear." 
His  figure  apostolical,  his  head  bald,  a  short  man.  Sev- 
eral fine  heads  in  the  church,  and  the  band  of  singers 
full  of  rough  harmony.  Eeturned  by  Mr.  Morant's  and 
Brockenhurst  and  Battramsley. 

^In  the  front  of  Mr.  Morant's  the  lawn  is  skirted  with 
aged  oaks,  and  falls  with  a  fine  swell  into  a  wide  unculti- 
vated valley,  beyond  which  rise  the  dark  woods  of  the 
forest,  extending  like  a  magnificent  curtain  to  right  and 
left  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach. 

*  Jidf/  9.  —  Rode  by  Boldre  churchyard,  in  which  are 
two  inscriptions  written  by  the  vicar. 

*Jiil7/  10.  —  Went  in  a  chaise  through  a  beautiful 
country  to  Lyndhurst.  Proceeded  on  horseback  by  Min- 
stead,  and  through  several  woods  full  of  lawns  and 
sudden  declivities  to  Bramble  Hill  Lodge,  seated  on  a 
green  hill,  —  on  the  brow  of  which  a  herd  of  deer  was 
assembled.  A  long  ridge  runs  far  above  it  which  com- 
mands Mr.  Gilpin's  celebrated  view.  The  foreground 
falls  with  a  fine  sweep,  and  discovers  a  grand  extent  of 

15 


226  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

forest-wood  below,  with  Southampton  and  its  river,  in 
which  the  mouth  of  the  Itchen  was  very  visible,  and  the 
Channel  and  the  Isle  of  Wight  in  the  distance. 

•At  Lyndhurst  is  the  King's  Lodge,  and  here  gen- 
erally resides  the  Kanger.  His  table  is  often  during  the 
venison  season  furnished  with  twelve  haunches  that  are 
served  up  in  succession;  such  are  the  refinements  of 
luxury.  In  a  lawn  near  Whitley  Ridge  Lodge  I  saw  a  for- 
est girl  with  some  lettuces  in  a  basket.  When  dressed  with 
verjuice,  — the  fermented  juice  of  the  crab-apple,  — they 
were  to  furnish  a  dinner  to  a  family  with  the  humble  ad- 
dition of  oat-bread.  It  was  only  on  a  Sunday  that  they 
could  indulge  themselves  with  meat !    What  a  contrast ! 

^Juli/  11.  —  Rain. 

'12th.  —  B.Sim. 

'  ISth.  —  The  waters  of  the  river  above  the  bridge 
were  out,  and  it  now  presented  the  appearance  of  a  noble 
lake,  fringed  on  every  side  with  the  trees  that  skirt  the 
uplands.  Rode  by  Walhampton  and  Vicar's  Hill,  and 
returned  over  Boldre  Bridge,  where  there  was  a  ferry 
for  foot-passengers. 

'  lAth.  —  Rode  in  a  chaise  to  Beaulieu,  and  proceeded 
through  Exbury  woods,  commanding  a  catch  of  the  river 
and  Bucklershard,  and  a  noble  view  of  its  course  from 
the  sea  into  the  forest.  Its  shores  were  wild  and  well- 
wooded,  and  gave  the  idea  of  an  unexplored  and  un- 
inhabited country.  Rode  along  the  sea-shore  opposite 
the  Isle  of  Wight  and  turned  oif  to  Cadlands  :  the  lawn 
beautiful,  the  garden  towards  the  river  very  inferior, 
but  the  situation  and  ground  admirable.  From  hence  to 
Dibden,  exquisitely  fine.  Stobland  Common  and  Butt's 
Ash  Farm  particularly  delightful.  At  Dibden  met  the 
chaise  and  returned  by  Totton  along  the  Lyndhurst  road. 

<  15th.  —  Rode  to  Boldre  and  heard  Gilpin.  "  There- 
fore, my  beloved  brethren,  cleanse  yourselves  from  all 
filthiness,"  etc. 


PORTSMOUTH,  CHICHESTER.  227 

'16^A.  —  Proceeded  through  the  forest  to  Southamp- 
ton ;  a  sultry  day,  concluded  with  a  thunder-storm. 

^  11th.  —  Came  by  Botley,  Titchfield,  and  Fareham  to 
Gosport,  twenty-five  miles.  The  country  rich  and  well- 
wooded,  exhibiting  several  beautiful  distances  on  the 
left,  and  on  the  right  once  or  twice  a  noble  catch  of 
Southampton  Water.  Titchfield  Abbey  is  a  venerable, 
square,  castle-like  mansion,  with  an  octagon  tower  at 
each  corner.  Its  offices  and  gateways  are  in  a  similar 
style,  and  its  elevated  position,  when  viewed  from  some 
points,  gives  it  an  air  of  dignity.  From  Fareham  Common 
had  a  lengthened  and  broken  view  of  the  Channel  and  its 
shipping,  with  the  Isle  of  Wight  beyond  it.  The  fore- 
ground was  rich  and  woody,  and  the  multitude  of  masts 
that  rose  in  some  parts  above  the  trees  had  a  singular 
effect.  Ferried  over  and  walked  on  Portsmouth  ramparts, 
which  nearly  encircle  the  town,  commanding  the  Isle  of 
Wight,  here  variegated  with  woods.  Walked  there  again 
in  the  evening.  The  green  and  leafy  island  in  front,  and 
the  busy  vessels  in  the  offing,  were  finely  made  out  by 
the  evening  sun.  On  the  left,  seated  on  the  extreme  edge 
of  a  promontory,  lay  a  castle,  the  whole  of  which  was  in 
shadow,  and  the  outline  of  its  turrets  and  battlements 
was  distinctly  marked.  The  general  character  of  the 
scene  was  softened,  but  now  and  then  a  transient  gleam 
of  sunshine  caught  a  white  sail  and  called  it  out  into  the 
landscape.  It  was  the  annual  fair,  and  all  was  mirth 
and  mummery. 

*  IWi.  —  Through  a  rich  country,  with  woody  distances 
on  the  left  and  frequent  sea-views  on  the  right,  pro- 
ceeded to  Chichester.  The  spire  is  almost  equal  to  that 
at  Salisbury  in  point  of  elegance  and  lightness.  Passed 
through  a  beautiful  countr}^,  the  Goodwood  plantations 
festooning  the  woods  on  the  left,  and  village  spires 
among  the  trees  on  the  right.  I  turned  aside  to  East- 
ham,  a  very  pleasant  and  retired  village.     In  the  church- 


228  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

yard,  which  commands  fields  and  woody  hills,  are  three 
epitaphs  of  Hay  ley's.  His  shrubbery  runs  beside  it,  and 
he  has  a  walk  that  looks  down  into  a  deep  and  woody 
valley,  glen  soon  afterwards,  and  commands  the  rich 
wealds  of  Sussex.  Eode  among  woods  to  Arundel. 
Passed  a  cricket  match,  —  the  country  people,  in  scarlet 
cloaks  and  white  wagoner's  frocks,  forming  an  amusing 
line  along  the  field  in  which  it  was  played.  Saw  Arundel 
Castle,  the  deep  fosse,  now  a  romantic  glen  full  of  trees ; 
the  round  tower,  a  fragment  mantled  with  a  grand  mass 
of  ivy  ;  the  castle-yard,  skirted  on  one  side  by  the  vener- 
able gallery,  etc.,  and  on  the  other  by  the  shell  of  the 
chapel.  In  the  chapel  a  fine  head  of  Kubens,  by  himself. 
The  church  ancient,  with  some  old  ivied  walls  behind  it. 
^Rode  among  woods  and  over  downs  with  frequent 
views  of  the  sea  on  the  right  to  Worthing.' 

When  this  pleasant  summer  journey  was  taken,  'The 
Pleasures  of  Memory '  was  just  beginning  to  receive  that 
public  recognition  which  soon  made  its  author  famous. 
He  speaks  of  Gilpin  and  Hayley,  but  he  had  not  yet 
made  the  personal  acquaintance  of  either  of  them.  Gil- 
pin was  then  old.  He  had  been  the  guide  of  a  whole  gen- 
eration to  the  picturesque  scenery  of  their  own  country, 
and  Rogers  had  probably  travelled  through  the  New 
Forest  with  his  volume  in  his  hand.  Hayley,  too,  was 
then  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  his  evanescent  fame,  and 
Rogers  had  not  yet  heard  through  Mr.  Cadell  of  that 
approval  which  gave  him  so  much  pleasure  and  pride. 
On  his  return  to  London  —  which  was  always  early,  in 
order  that  his  father  might  get  away  on  his  own  long 
summer  holiday  —  he  naturally  found  himself  the  object 
of  increased  interest.  People  were  talking  about  him, 
and  his  poem  was  being  praised  in  the  reviews  and  was 
selling  fast.  He  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  much  more 
tempted  into  society,  but  continued  as  usual  to  spend 


DR.   PRIESTLEY'S   OPINIONS.  229 

his  days  in  the  city,  and  his  evenings  chiefly  in  his  Stoke 
Newington  home.  He  was  already  contemplating  his 
next  poem,  or  at  least  laying  up  the  material  for  it.  A 
few  pages  of  his  diary  record  his  social  experiences 
during  the  next  eighteen  months. 

'August  11.  —  Eode  to  Sevenoaks  with  Sharp  and 
Cooper ;  saw  Knole  and  worshipped  a  statue  of  Demos- 
thenes. West  told  Sharp:  "I  never  showed  a  young 
artist  a  picture  he  liked,  but  he  asked  me  where  I  bought 
my  colors ;  and  Sir  Joshua  said  a  picture  never  pleased 
him  till  after  he  had  labored  at  it  again  and  again." 

'Attgust  IS.  —  Dined  at  Tuffin's  with  Cooper,  Tooke, 
Dr.  Priestley,  Dr.  Crawford,  etc.  Politics.  Whether  man 
has  any  natural  right  to  property,  and  a  free  government 
is  friendly  to  the  Arts ;  decided  in  the  affirmative. 

'  August  15.  —  Dr.  Priestley,  Dr.  Aikin,  Cooper,  Fell, 
etc.,  dined  at  the  Green.  Dr.  Priestley  said  De  Luc, 
when  in  London,  said  he  knew  it  better  than  Priestley 
(though  Priestley  lived  there)  and  he  would  be  his  guide. 
"He  took  me,"  said  Priestley,  "to  the  Old  Bailey,  the 
only  time  I  was  ever  there,  and  bade  me  observe  the 
criminals  at  the  bar.  *Did  you  ever,'  said  he,  *meet 
elsewhere  with  the  same  lines  of  character  ?  An  English 
blackguard  is  not  to  be  found  out  of  England  :  insolent 
and  brutal  —  with  a  trait  of  generosity.  I  was  once 
walking  in  the  street  with  Mr.  Howard,  when  a  baker 
dropped  some  pies  and  he  damned  their  souls  to  eter- 
nity ! '  "  Mentioned  a  singular  escape  he  had  in  his 
laboratory  at  Warrington,  and  another  he  experienced 
that  very  moaning.  The  American  Indians  must  be  ex- 
terminated; cannot  be  civilized.  America  not  peopled 
a  thousand  years  ago.  Man  created  long  after  other 
animals,  —  few  human  bones  in  a  fossil  state;  many 
animal  bones.  Coal  is  vegetable  in  a  decayed  state,  and 
must  be  exhausted  in  time.     Cooper  said  America  was 


230  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

not  in  being  a  thousand  years  ago.  Aikin  and  Priestley 
said  it  must  have  been.  Cooper  replied  that  an  island 
might  be  raised  in  a  night  with  a  mountain  on  it. 
Priestley  :  "  But  not  with  the  Andes  on  it !  "  Cooper 
said:  "Those  are  European  experiments  —  America 
works  on  a  grander  scale." 

*  November  6.  —  First  meeting  of  the  Club.  Argument 
between  Aikin  and  Sharpe  on  the  principles  of  Beauty. 
A.  maintained  that  the  Greeks  were  inferior  in  their 
combinations  to  nature.  S.  said  that  statuary  could 
soar  above  her  by  selecting  and  proportioning  her  best 
features. 

'November  IS.  —  Dined  at  Sharpe's  and  met  Bodding- 
ton  and  Stothard.  Stothard  said  :  "  If  the  Pantheon  were 
in  London  I  think  I  should  ba  a  happier  man.  I  often 
take  an  evening  walk  in  the  park  in  summer  to  observe 
the  figures,  and  at  a  distance  they  portion  themselves 
into  those  bold  simple  forms  that  were  the  delight  of  the 
Grecian  artists." 

*  November  19.  —  Drank  tea  at  Dr.  Garshore's.  Pres- 
ent :  Dr.  Gillies,  Dr.  Bates,  Mr.  Planta,  Dr.  Kippis,  Mr. 
Parsons,  Major  Rennell,  Mr.  Marsden,  etc.  Talked  poli- 
tics with  Gillies,  who  said  he  should  publish  Aristotle's 
political  works  with  a  commentary. 

*  November  24.  —  Dined  at  W.  Vaughan's,  with  Priest- 
ley, B.  Vaughan,  Aikin,  Christie,  etc.  A.  gave  a  good 
motto  for  a  Peerage  Book,  — 

"  The  air  hath  bubbles  as  the  water  hath, 
And  these  ar^  of  them." 

*27th.  —  Second  meeting  of  Club.  Dispute  respecting 
Capital  Punishments.  The  objects  of  punishment  are  to 
deter  by  example,  to  reform  the  offender,  and  contrive 
that  he  should  make  reparation  to  society  for  the  injury 
he  has  done  her.  The  last  two  cannot  be  attained  by 
capital  punishments. 


AT   THE   CLUBS.  231 

* "  A  case  occurs,"  says  Sharp,  "  in  which  the  first  — 
and  most  important  —  cannot  be  accomplished  without 
them :  A  soldier  runs  away ;  the  influence  of  fear  in  that 
man  is  irresistible  —  it  overcomes  the  sense  of  shame. 
As  you  cannot  restrain  it  you  must  make  it  subservient 
to  your  own  purposes.  He  flies  to  escape  the  chance  of 
dying :  make  certainty  of  death  the  consequence  of  his 
flight." 

^December  2.  —  Kode  to  Streatham  and  slept  there. 
Present :  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Broadhead. 

^  1th,  —  Dined  at  the  Athenaeum  Club.  Introduced  by 
Sharp.  Present :  Murphy,  Carr,  Ogle,  Blake,  Parsons, 
etc.  Murphy  very  rancorous  on  politics.  Said  the 
old  English  writers  had  great  strength,  such  as  Hooker, 
etc.  —  but  they  all  wrote  according  to  the  Latin  Syntax. 
Then  came  a  new  set  —  Temple,  Dryden,  etc.  —  who 
were  grounded  on  the  English  Syntax.  Dr.  Johnson 
returned  to  the  Latin,  and  so  did  the  Scotch  except 
Robertson.  Spoke  with  enthusiasm  of  Garrick.  "  Were 
he  to  act  to-night  none  of  you  would  have  been  here  ! " 
said  he.  "  He  had  his  faults  as  a  man,  but  on  the  stage 
he  was  a  demigod.  Prior  and  Swift  would  have  made 
a  Fontaine  between  them.  Swift  approached  near  to 
him." 

aSj^A.  — Third  night  of  the  Club.  Was  at  Paine's 
trial,  and  heard  Erskine. 

*  Vdth.  —  Saw  Stothard  at  Sharpe's,  who  said  Dr.  Bates 
had  tried  to  purchase  the  Temple  at  Tivoli  and  trans- 
port it  to  England. 

'  2Wi.  —  At  Parndon  met  James  Martin  and  Jackson 
Barwis.  Mrs.  Martin  had  met  and  conversed  with 
Mrs.  Armstead  (Fox's  chere  amie,  and  originally  Mrs. 
Abbington's  maid)  unknowingly  at  Hastings's  trial,  and 
thought  her  a  charming  woman.  Said  that  Boehm, 
the  traveller,  once  left  his  hat  as  a  pledge  at  a  barrier  in 
Sweden  in  consequence  of  a  wrangle  about  a  fee,  and 


232  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

that  he  walked  without  a  hat  through  the  country,  re- 
solving not  to  purchase  another  where  he  had  been  so 
imposed  upon. 

1793,  ^  Jamoary  14.  —  Dined  at  McMurdo's,  with 
Hinkley  and  Dr.  Priestley.  The  dialogue  turned  on 
distressing  situations.  Dr.  Priestley  remarked  that  Dr. 
Franklin  said  of  Dibbs :  "If  that  man  is  not  damned, 
the  devil 's  kept  for  nothing ! " 

'  January  15.  —  Mr.  Raper  dined  at  Newington  Green. 
Said  that  the  Jesuits  at  Macao,  when  they  took  their 
siesta  after  dinner,  held  an  ivory  ball  in  their  hands  and 
a  brass  basin  between  their  feet;  that  the  instant  the 
ball  dropped  the  noise  wakened  them,  that  they  then 
knew  they  had  slept,  and  held  one  wink  of  sleep  to  be 
sufficient  refreshment ;  that  when  a  European  visited  a 
great  man  at  Canton  he  often  walked  in  in  his  waistcoat  — 
a  servant  carrying  behind  him  his  coat,  hat,  and  sword ; 
and  that  was  considered  a  visit  of  ceremony. 

^February!. — Went  to  the  Club  and  met  Priestley, 
Cooper,  etc.  Cooper,  speaking  of  Louis's  execution,  said 
he  died  well  enough. 

^February  9;  Sunday.  —  Went  with  Sharp,  Cooper, 
Tuffin,  and  Weston  to  Stothard's,  and  afterwards  to 
Eomney's.  Saw  him  and  his  statues  and  pictures ;  a 
warm  democrat,  and  his  gallery  full  of  beauty,  —  Mrs. 
Tickell,  Lady  E.  Fitzgerald,  Mrs.  Siddons,  Lady  Hamil- 
ton, etc.  Afterwards  walked  to  the  Park  and  saw  the 
line  of  carriages.  Sharpe  told  Lady  Hamilton's  history  — 
Joseph  Boydell's  cook,  afterwards  Greville's  mistress  — 
the  masquerade  scene:  "What's  the  matter,  Greville  ? 
Not  well  ?  I  know  what  it  is  ;  "  threw  the  dress  on  the 
fire  ;  her  vow  to  Sir  William  not  to  be  his  wife  till  he  had 
educated  her.  Dined  at  the  Grecian :  Politics,  the  arts, 
travelling,  picturesque  beauty,  etc. 

'  .  .  .  Dined  at  Sharpe's.  Dr.  Aikin  said  that  when 
a  Hungarian  officer  came  to  London  with  a  letter  of 


PRIESTLEY  AND  FRANKLIN.  233 

recommendation  to  Mr.  Howard,  Howard  walked  the 
streets  with  him  ;  and  his  lirst  exclamation  on  seeing  the 
wealth  and  comfort  around  him  was  :  "  What  a  fine  city 
to  plunder ! " 

*  3Iay  3.  —  Danced  at  Smith's  ball. 

*  May  6.  —  Was  introduced  by  Dr.  Gillies  to  the 
Athenian.  Present :  Dr.  Bancroft,  Dr.  Gillies,  Dr.  Grif- 
fiths, Dr.  Franklin's  grandson,  and  myself.  Dr.  Franklin 
used  to  say  that  when  a  tradesman  was  tired  of  business, 
he  left  off  and  went  into  the  country  to  retire. 

^  December  9.  —  Dr.  Priestley  at  the  Hackney  Club  : 
"  When  I  was  dining  at  Paris,  fifteen  years  ago,  at  Turgot's 
table,  M.  de  Chatelleux, — author  of  'Travels  through 
America,'  —  in  answer  to  an  inquiry,  said  that  the  two 
gentlemen  opposite  to  me  were  the  Bishop  of  Aix  and 
the  Archbishop  of  Toulouse ;  *  but,'  said  he,  '  they  are  no 
more  believers  than  you  or  I.'  ^  I  assured  him  I  was  a 
believer,  but  he  would  not  believe  me ;  and  Le  Eoi,  the 
philosopher,  told  me  that  I  was  the  only  man  of  sense  he 
knew  that  was  a  Christian.  A  young  man  of  family  called 
upon  me  and  said,  with  tears  of  joy  in  his  eyes,  that  he 
heard  I  was  a  believer.  *  Yes,'  said  I ;  '  but  I  am  a  great 
heretic,  not  such  a  believer  as  you.'  *  Still,'  said  he, '  you 
are  a  believer.' " 

'Dr.  Franklin's  receipt  for  a  verdict  in  your  favor: 
"  Have  reason  on  your  side,  procure  an  eloquent  attorney 
to  state  it,  an  impartial  judge  to  try  it ;  and  then,  if  you 
have  great  luck,  you  may  gain  your  cause."  Franklin 
said  a  man  once  came  into  the  country  where  he  lived 
who  asked :  "  What !  do  you  bury  lawyers  ?  We  place 
them  in  an  arm-chair  at  the  top  of  the  stairs,  and  they  are 
always  gone  before  morning  —  the  devil  takes  them." 

'A  Spanish  judge  satisfied  everybody  with  his  sen- 

1  The  story  is  told  in  Mr.  Dyce^  'Table  Talk,'  but  the  fact  that  the 
two  gentlemen  were  eminent  ecclesiastics  —  the  point  of  the  stoiy  —  is 
omitted. 


234  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

tences:  his  son  wlio  succeeded  him  satisfied  nobody. 
"  What  did  you  do,  father  ?  I  read  their  cases  with  all 
possible  care/'  "  I  did  no  such  thing.  I  received  their 
papers  till  each  party  was  tired  of  sending  them  in.  I 
then  piled  them  in  my  pair  of  scales,  and  the  heaviest 
scale  had  it."     (Franklin.) 

' "  When  I  [Priestley]  was  at  Bowood  the  last  Lord 
Lyttelton,  son  of  the  author,  called  on  me  and  was  sur- 
prised to  find  me  a  believer.  ^  You  ascribe  all  things  to  a 
cause,'  said  he ;  'so  far  is  reasonable,  but  what  produced 
that  cause  ?  AYhy  not  sit  down  with  things  as  we  find 
them?'" 

'An  inn  in  Yorkshire  had  this  sign:  On  one  side  a 
smart  young  man  with  this  inscription  —  "  I  am  going  to 
law."  On  the  other  side  the  young  man  in  rags  —  "  I  've 
gained  my  cause." 

'There  was  a  sect  at  Philadelphia,  Franklin  says, 
which  believed  that  a  violent  death  was  a  sure  passport 
to  heaven,  and  many  of  them  committed  murder  in  order 
to  be  hanged.  One  of  these  enthusiasts  set  off  into  the 
fields  early  one  morning  with  a  determination  to  shoot 
the  first  man  he  met.  It  proved  to  be  a  Quaker,  who 
saluted  him  so  civilly  that  it  disarmed  him.  He  met 
nobody  else ;  and,  returning  into  the  town,  turned  into 
a  billiard-room  where  some  persons  were  at  play.  There 
he  stood  for  some  time  resting  on  his  gun.  At  last  one 
of  the  players  struck  the  ball  into  the  pocket :  "  That  was 
a  good  aim,"  said  his  antagonist.  "  But  this  is  a  better," 
said  the  enthusiast,  as  he  raised  his  gun  and  shot  him 
dead.  The  astonishment  of  the  company  was  great,  as 
you  may  imagine.  "  Poor  man  ! "  said  the  enthusiast, 
taking  the  dead  man  by  the  hand,  "I  meant  you  no 
harm."  He  declared  his  motive  triumphantly,  and  was 
hanged.  "And  what  steps  did  the  Government  take?" 
I  asked  Dr.  Franklin.  "  Why,"  said  he,  "  the  sect  was 
ver}^  small,  and  it  was  thought  better  to  hang  them  up  as 


ARTHUR  MURPHY.  235 

they  committed  such  crimes  than  to  interfere  publicly  to 
crush  them." 

*  Dec.  [no  date].  — Dined  at  Dilly's  with  Eeid,  Pincker- 
ton,  Butler,  Thomson,  Boswell,  Sharpe,^  and  Tuffin. 

'  Dec.  19.  —  Dined  at  the  Eumelean.  Murphy  pi;e- 
f erred  Swift's  verses  on  his  own  death  to  all  his  other 
poems  and  his  polite  conversation.  Said  that  the  theatres 
charged  an  author  one  hundred  and  forty  guineas  for  the 
expenses  of  his  night,  and  he  was  never  charged  in  Gar- 
rick's  time  (when  there  were  actors)  more  than  seventy. 
Said  Johnson  recited  well,  and  would  often  at  night 
leave  the  house  at  Streatham,  and,  seating  himself  on 
one  of  the  garden  seats  and  turning  it  on  its  pivot  from 
the  storm,  would  roar  and  bellow  Latin  hexameters  and 
English  heroics  for  the  hour  together ;  that  he  would  do 
the  same  at  Brighton  in  one  of  the  machines,  and  could 
be  heard  at  Thrale's  on  the  cliff.  Said  the  "Confed- 
eracy "  was  translated  from  a  dull  French  play  ;  that  he 
and  Tooke  one  summer  evening,  after  they  had  dined 
together,  walked  along  Oxford  Street,  and  ordering  a  pot 
of  porter  at  a  small  alehouse  they  sat  down  on  the  bench 
before  the  door.  "  This  is  the  grandeur  of  human  life. 
Those  scoundrels  in  their  carriages  have  no  taste  for 
happiness."  Wrote  Johnson's  "  Life  "  at  the  '•  Dog  "  ale- 
house, near  Richmond  Bridge,  where  I  kept  close  for  a 
month,  and  hardly  ever  put  on  my  shoes.' 

Arthur  Murphy,  the  biographer  of  Fielding  and  Gar- 
rick,  the  friend  and  first  biographer  of  Johnson,  —  to 
whose  Halents,  literature,  and  gentleman-like  manners' 
Boswell  bears  witness,  —  formed  with  Rogers,  as  he  had 
previously  done  with  Johnson,  a  friendship  which  was 
never  broken.  Rogers  had  first  met  him  at  the  house  of 
the  Piozzis.  Murphy  was  then  in  poverty.  He  had  spent 
the  wealth  his  popular  plays  —  such  as  the  'XJpholster- 

1  Shai-pe  is,  in  all  cases,  Sutton  Sharpe  ;  Sharp  is  Richard  Sharp. 


236  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

ers/  ^  All  in  the  Wrong,'  the  '  Grecian  Daughter/  and 
'  Know  your  own  Mind '  —  had  brought  him,  and  was 
living  by  miscellaneous  literary  work.  He  was  in  debt 
everywhere.  Like  Cumberland  and  others  he  soon  began 
to  borrow  money  of  Eogers,  for  which  Rogers  got  noth- 
ing but  dishonored  bills.  He  had  once  lent  him  two 
hundred  pounds ;  and  asking  Murphy  when  he  meant  to 
repay  him,  Murphy  went  back  with  him  to  his  chambers 
in  the  Temple  and  used  all  his  persuasive  arts  to  induce 
Eogers  to  lend  him  more.  At  a  later  time  he  assigned 
the  stock  and  copyrights  of  his  works  as  security  for  a 
loan,  when  they  had  been  already  sold  to  the  bookseller. 
But  he  had  no  desire  to  deceive,  and  made  so  humble  an 
apology  that  he  was  easily  forgiven.  In  1803  a  pension 
was  given  him,  and  he  died  in  1805,  at  the  age  of  seventy- 
eight.  Kogers  always  spoke  kindly  of  him,  repeated  his 
7riot  that  the  theatres  were  a  fourth  estate  of  the  realm ; 
and  told  to  his  credit  that  when  an  actress  with  whom  he 
had  lived  left  him  her  money,  he  gave  it  all  up  to  her 
relations. 

A  few  further  scraps  of  Murphy's  conversation  are 
recorded  by  Rogers  in  his  Commonplace  Book  :  — 

'  "  I  should  like  to  use  that  story  of  yours,  Sheridan," 
said  Lord  Lauderdale.  "  Would  you  ?  "  said  Sheridan. 
"  Then  I  must  be  on  my  guard  in  future,  for  a  joke  in 
your  hands  is  no  laughing  matter."  Murphy  considers 
Cowley  as  Addison's  model.  Thinks  "Boadicea,"  by 
Glover,  is,  in  point  of  style,  the  best  tragedy  since 
Shakspeare.  It  has  a  bad  fifth  act.  The  opening  of 
the  "Alchemist"  is  a  model  of  dramatic  writing  for 
effect,  though  never  followed.  Close  your  acts  well,  and 
have  a  good  fifth  act,  and  your  play  must  succeed.  Also, 
always  give  a  counter  turn,  a  surprise  in  the  fifth,  so 
that  nobody  shall  foresee  the  conclusion.  Was  first 
struck  by  Dryden's  criticisms  on  the  "  Silent  Woman '' 


FOOTE,  ACTOR  AND  DRAMATIST.  237 

in  his  preface  to  his  plays,  and  afterwards  read  it  care- 
fully with  the  play.  Had  not  then  thought  of  the  stage. 
Afterwards  read  Ricciboni  on  Moliere,  D'Alembert's 
"  Life  of  Des  Touches,"  etc.  Used  to  compose  walking 
about  Bagnigge  AVells  and  New  Kiver  Head,  and  then 
call  in  at  an  alehouse  to  write  down  a  thought.  Used  to 
make  three  or  four  chairs  pass  for  his  people  on  the 
stage,  and  would  say  "  that  chair  has  continued  too  long 
silent."  Kept  a  memorandum  book  for  good  things. 
When  French  died  without  leaving  him  anything  he 
said  to  himself :  "  I  have  got  by  him,  however,"  — 
having  put  him  into  ''Sir  Bashful  Constant"  and  the 
"  Citizen." 

'Murphy  had  two  inscriptions  on  the  collar  of  his 
dog;-— 

"  My  name  is  Prince,  of  honest  fame  : 
Let  other  Princes  say  the  same." 

"  My  name  is  Prince,  from  vice  and  debts  I  'm  free  ; 
I  want  no  Parhament  to  pay  for  me." 

'  "  Am  T  not  in  Heaven  ?  "  said  a  girl  at  High  Mass. 
"No,  my  dear,"  said  Murphy,  "there  are  not  so  many 
bishops  in  Heaven." ' 

Murphy  was  full  of  stories  of  Foote,  some  of  which 
Rogers  has  written  down  in  his  early  memorandum 
book : — 

' "  Great  as  Foote  was  on  the  stage,"  said  Murphy, 
"he  was  greater  in  the  green-room,  and  there  I  loved 
to  attend  him.  One  night  when  I  was  there  the  last 
Duke  of  Cumberland  hurried  in,  saying :  '  I  come  every 
night  to  swallow  all  your  good  things.'  *  Do  you  ? '  said 
Foote  ;  '  you  must  have  a  damned  good  digestion,  for  you 
never  bring  them  up  again.'  " 

*  In  his  cause  before  Lord  Mansfield,  when  Lord 
Mansfield,  who  had  continued  firm  on  his  side  throujsrh- 


238  EARLY  LIFE  OF   SAMUEL   ROGERS. 

out,  was  at  last  brought  over  to  his  opponent:  "Damn 
the  trial,"  says  he  to  Murphy,  "  what  a  crane-necked  turn 
it  has  taken  !  It  has  been  tried  twenty  times  at  Caen 
Wood,  and  gained  the  verdict  in  my  favor." 

^  When  Foote  proposed  a  venison  feast  at  the  "  Crown 
and  Anchor"  to  Murphy  and  Garrick,  Dr.  Schonberg 
and  two  other  lawyers  were  engaged  to  it.  None  came 
but  Foote,  Murphy,  and  Garrick.  The  bill  came  to  three 
gui]ieas  a  head,  and  Foote  wrote  to  the  absentees  for 
their  shares.  When  Foote  paid  his,  the  waiter  said : 
"  This  is  a  bad  shilling,  sir."  "  Is  it  ?  "  replied  Foote, 
*'  look  at  it,  Davy."  Garrick,  who  was  half-tipsy,  said  it 
was  and  threw  it  away.  "  Do  you  change  it  for  him," 
said  Foote,  "  you  can  make  it  go  as  far  as  anybody ! " 

*  When  a  collection  for  the  poor  players  was  proposed, 
all  but  Garrick  attended  the  meeting.  •'*  He  did  set  out," 
says  Foote,  "  but  as  he  turned  the  corner  of  the  Adelphi 
he  met  the  ghost  of  a  shilling." 

'  When  L ,  who  had  been  sentenced  to  the  pillory, 

saw  Foote  in  the  pump-room  at  Bath,  whither  he  had 
been  ordered  for  the  jaundice,  "  Your  looks  mend,"  says 

L .     "  Yes,"  says  Foote,    "  I  am   washing  the  eggs 

from  my  face." 

<  Murphy  said :  "  I  meant  Foote  in  my  character  of 
Dashwold,  where  I  have  used  his  bon-mot  to  the  Duke 
of  Cumberland." 

*  Murphy  met  Costello  at  Lord  Camden's.  "My  wife 
and  I,"  said  Costello,  "quarrelled,  and  we  agreed  to 
divide.  I  said  to  her  —  *I  will  take  one  side  of  the 
house  and  you  the  other.'  I  took  the  inside  and  she 
took  the  outside." ' 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Death  of  Rogers's  Father.  —  Richard  Sharp.  —  Rogers  deciding  on  a 
West-end  life.  —  R.  Cumberland,  R.  Merry,  T.  Cooper.  —  Priest- 
ley's exile.  —  Home  Tooke's  Trial.  —  William  Stone's  Trial.  — 
Mrs.  Siddons  and  her  Ei)ilogue.  —  Dr.  Moore.  —  Early  Corre- 
spondence with  Richard  Sharp.  —  Rogers's  Commonplace  Book.  — 
Dr.  Johnson  and  Dr.  Priestley.  —  *  My  Club.'  —  Rogers  and 
Polwhele. 

The  turning-point  in  Rogers's  life  had  now  come.  At 
the  beginning  of  his  thirtieth  year  he  had  found  himself 
recognized  as  a  popular  poet,  and  had  begun  to  enjoy 
the  kind  of  fame  for  which  he  longed.  But  no  thought 
of  the  social  celebrity  he  was  afterwards  to  attain  had 
as  yet  come  into  his  mind.  He  was  still  the  junior  part- 
ner in  the  bank,  and  day  by  day  was  occupied  with  its 
business.  He  was  on  the  unpopular  side  both  in  politics 
and  in  religion,  and  his  prospects  of  wealth  were  remote. 
*  While  his  father  lived,'  says  Samuel  Sharpe,  '  Mr.  Rog- 
ers's friends  had  been  as  much  chosen  for  their  politics 
as  for  their  literature,'  and  in  the  diary  quoted  in  the 
previous  chapter  we  find  him  frequently  in  the  company 
of  some  of  the  chief  Liberal  politicians  of  that  exciting 
and  agitated  time.  The  house  at  Stoke  Newington 
was  one  in  which  Liberal  politicians  and  Liberal  divines 
—  Whigs,  latitudinarians,  and  Unitarians  —  found  them- 
selves at  home.  The  elder  Rogers  was,  in  words  which 
came  into  use  at  a  later  day,  ^a  Whig  and  something 
more.'  Among  the  signatures  to  the  celebrated  Declara- 
tion of  the  '  Society  instituted  for  the  purpose  of  obtain- 
ing a  Parliamentary  Reform  '  under  the  title  of  *  Friends 


240  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

of  the  People,'  that  -of  Thomas  Eogers  comes  imme- 
diately before  that  of  the  Hou.  Thomas  Erskine,  M.P., 
and  Samuel  Rogers  directly  follows  on  the  Eight  Hon. 
Lord  John  Russell,  M.P.  The  names  of  John  Towgood, 
who  had  married  Samuel  Rogers's  eldest  sister  Martha, 
and  of  his  friends  Dr.  Kippis  and  Richard  Sharp,  also 
appear  with  those  of  Grey  and  Lambton  and  Sheridan 
and  Mackintosh  and  Whitbread,  among  the  hundred 
which  constitute  this  illustrious  catalogue.  Dr.  Priestley 
had  come  to  London  in  the  autumn  of  1791;  and  the 
elder  Rogers  first,  and  his  son  afterwards,  opened  the 
house  at  Newington  Green  to  the  persecuted  philosopher 
and  divine.  Thomas  Rogers  in  one  of  his  last  letters  to 
his  son  expresses  constant  sympathy  with  the  French, 
but  writing  on  the  13th  of  September,  1792,  about  the  sub- 
scription for  France  wliich  Home  Tooke  and  his  friends 
were  getting  up,  he  reasons  conclusively  against  it,  and 
tells  his  son :  *  I  would  wish  you  not  to  have  anything 
to  do  with  it.  It  is  of  a  piece  with  the  rest  of  Home 
Tooke's  politics,  which  are  more  of  the  bravado  than  the 
man  of  true  wisdom.'  This  is  not  the  criticism  of  an 
opponent,  but  of  a  friend.  It  need  not  be  taken  to  indi- 
cate any  difference  between  father  and  son.  In  politics, 
as  in  religion  and  business,  there  seems  to  have  been  to 
the  last  the  fullest  confidence  and  sympath}^  between 
Thomas  Rogers  and  his  son  Samuel.  The  beginning 
of  the  year  1793,  to  which  part  of  the  diary  given  in 
the  previous  chapter  belongs,  found  Samuel  Rogers  still 
living  at  Stoke  Newington  with  his  father,  sisters,  and 
younger  brother,  without  any  thought  of  change  or  any 
desire  for  it  on  his  part  or  theirs. 

This  state  of  things  might  to  all  appearance  have 
lasted  many  years  longer,  and  had  it  done  so  the  world 
might  never  have  known  Samuel  Rogers  as  the  munifi- 
cent patron  of  art  and  literature  he  afterwards  became. 
But  in  the  spring  of  1793  his  father  was  seized  with  a 


DEATH  OF  HIS  FATHER.  241 

fatal  illness,  and  died  on  the  1st  of  June.  Thomas 
Kogers  had  not  been  a  strong  man,  but  his  death  in  his 
iifty-eighth  year  was  premature.  There  are  no  references 
to  it  in  his  son's  diaries,  nor  in  the  family  letters.  It 
was  the  custom  of  the  family  to  be  silent  on  such  events. 
Tiiere  are,  however,  in  the  poems  two  stanzas  headed 
*  Written  in  a  Sick  Chamber,'  and  dated  1793,  which 
give  the  only  account  of  his  illness. 

*  There  in  that  bed  so  closely  curtained  round, 
Worn  to  a  shade,  and  wan  with  slow  decay, 
A  father  sleeps.     Oh,  hushed  be  every  sound. 
Soft  may  we  breathe  the  midnight  hours  away ! 

He  stirs  —  yet  still  he  sleeps.     May  heavenly  dreams 
Long  o'er  his  smooth  and  settled  pillow  rise  — 
Nor  fly,  till  morning  through  the  shutter  streams. 
And  on  the  hearth  the  glimmering  rushUght  dies  1  * 

It  is  a  remarkable  testimony  to  Samuel  Kogers's 
business  faculty  that  so  excellent  a  man  of  business  as 
his  father  should  have  left  him  his  own  share  in  the  bank 
and  his  estates.  Thomas  Eogers's  will  practically  dis- 
inherited his  eldest  son  Daniel  in  favor  of  his  third  son 
Samuel,  who  thus  became  head  of  the  banking  firm,  and 
practically  head  of  the  family.  He  now  found  himself 
in  possession  of  about  five  thousand  a  year,  partly  derived 
from  estates  and  investments,  but  chiefly  from  the  bank 
in  Freeman's  Court.  This  was  a  considerable  fortune  in 
1793,  and  gave  Rogers  the  opportunity  which  probably 
woke  the  desire  to  live  in  the  society  of  London.  He 
soon  felt  that  its  possession  set  him  free  to  follow  the 
career  to  which  —  as  he  was  not  long  in  discovering  —  his 
inclination,  his  social  talents,  and  his  ambition  led  him. 
He  had  formed  no  definite  plan.  He  probably  found 
that  the  residence  at  Stoke  Newington  was  a  hindrance 
to  the  cultivation  of  the  literary  society  in  which  he 
delighted,  and  therefore,  without  breaking  away  from  the 

16 


242  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

old  home  on  the  Green,  he  took  chambers  in  Paper  Build- 
ings. The  rooms  had  been  previously  occupied  by  Lord 
Ellenborough,  and  the  range  of  buildings  in  which  they 
stood  has  since  been  pulled  down  and  a  new  one  erected 
on  the  site.  Kogers  lived  in  these  chambers  between 
six  and  seven  years.  During  this  period  he  became  inti- 
mate with  many  well-known  persons,  and  particularly 
with  four  men,  of  different  types  of  character,  who  prob- 
ably exerted  the  greatest  influence  on  his  life.  These 
were  Fox,  Sheridan,  Tooke,  and  Richard  Sharp.  Rogers 
not  only  belonged  to  Fox's  school  in  politics,  but  was  a 
devoted  admirer  of  the  great  Whig  statesman  and  orator. 
His  '  Recollections  '  of  Fox  are  among  the  most  interest- 
ing and  valuable  of  the  treasures  his  tenacious  memory 
has  allowed  him  to  preserve  from  oblivion  and  to  hand 
down  to  posterity.  His  intimate  association  with  the 
Whig  leaders  for  the  first  fifty  years  of  this  century 
was  begun  by  his  acquaintance  with  Fox,  if  it  may  not 
be  said  to  have  arisen  out  of  it.  With  Sheridan  his 
connection  was  of  another  kind.  The  great  orator  and 
dramatist  became  the  recipient  of  much  assistance  from 
the  poet,  who  stood  by  him  to  the  last  when  the  great 
world  had  left  him  to  die  in  poverty  and  neglect.  Rich- 
ard Sharp  was  destined  to  become  Rogers's  closest  and 
most  intimate  friend.  He  had  much  to  do  in  making 
Rogers's  life  what  it  afterwards  became,  and  had  more 
influence  on  his  poetry,  as  well  as  on  his  character,  than 
any  other  of  the  friends  of  his  raaturer  years.  This 
admirable  and  popular  person  was  already  widely  known 
among  men  of  letters  for  that  critical  force  which  made 
Mackintosh  call  him  the  best  critic  he  knew,  and  for 
those  remarkable  conversational  powers  to  which  he 
afterwards  owed  his  chief  authority  and  fame.  He  was 
born  in  Newfoundland  in  1759,  and  was  therefore  about 
four  years  older  than  Rogers.  He  had  written  in  1784  a 
very  able  essay  on  English  style  as  a  preface  to  a  gram- 


FRIENDSHIP   WITH  RICHARD   SHARP.  243 

mar  published  by  his  old  schoolmaster,  the  Rev.  John 
Fell.  He  had  been  the  intimate  friend  of  Henderson,  the 
actor,  and  at  his  request  had  gone  in  1785  —  the  year  in 
which  Henderson  died  —  to  see  the  new  *  Hamlet/  whose 
provincial  fame  had  preceded  him  to  London.  In  1787 
he  read  an  admirable  paper  before  the  Manchester  Soci- 
ety, '  On  the  Nature  and  Utility  of  Eloquence.^  He  was 
a  strong  advocate  of  a  simple  style  as  opposed  to  the 
prevalent  Johnsonian  pedantry.  ^  Johnsonism,'  he  said, 
*has  become  almost  a  general  disease;'  and  he  laughed 
at  *  Mr.  B.  and  Dr.  P.  strutting  about  in  Johnson's  bulky 
clothes,  as  if  a  couple  of  Liliputians  had  bought  their 
great-coats  at  a  rag-fair  in  Brobdingnag.'  He  contem- 
plated, at  a  later  period,  the  writing  of  a  history  of  the 
establishment  of  '  American  Independence,'  and  was  en- 
couraged to  do  so  by  his  intimate  friend,  Mr.  Adams, 
afterwards  President  of  the  United  States.  He  had  fixed 
on  the  period  between  1775  and  1783,  but  Mr.  Adams 
assured  him  that  those  were  '  by  no  means  the  most  im- 
portant nor  the  most  interesting  eight  years  of  the  Revo- 
lution, which  had  in  fact  been  effected,  so  far  as  the 
minds  of  the  people  were  concerned,  in  the  period  from 
1761  to  1775.'  The  design  of  the  history  was  abandoned, 
and  Mr.  Sharp  is  only  known  to  literature  by  a  small 
volume  of  *  Letters  and  Essays  in  Prose  and  Verse,' ^ 
which  he  published  towards  the  close  of  his  long  and 
interesting  life. 

The  acquaintance  between  Rogers  and  Richard  Sharp 
began  in  the  spring  of  1792.  They  were  introduced  to 
each  other  by  William  Maltbj',  and  soon  became  close 
friends.  Rogers  always  said  that  he  did  not  know  Rich- 
ard Sharp  till  after  '  The  Pleasures  of  Memory  '  was  pub- 
lished, but  in  the  July  of  the  year  in  which  the  poem 

1  This  book  was  made  the  subject  of  a  very  laudatoiy  article  in  the 
*  Quarterly  Review  '  in  1834,  vol.  li. 


244  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

appeared  they  travelled  together  in  the  Isle  of  Wight. 
Kichard  Sharp's  first  letter  to  Rogers  is  one  acknowledg- 
ing the  gift  of  the  volume,  and  recommending  Eogers  to 
read  one  of  his  favorite  books,  Usher's  *  Clio.'  It  is  the 
letter  of  a  comparative  stranger.  Eogers  wrote  to  Maltby 
during  their  stay  in  the  Isle  of  Wight  in  praise  of  his 
new  friend;  and  Maltby,  writing  a  letter  of  literary 
gossip  ^  on  the  13th  of  July,  1792,  concludes  by  asking  to 
be  remembered  to  Sharp,  /who  deserves  everything  you 
say  of  him,  and  can  never  be  praised  too  much.'  This 
was  not  merely  the  enthusiastic  expression  of  an  ad- 
miring friend.  It  was  a  simple  statement  of  the  impres- 
sion Richard  Sharp  produced  on  his  contemporaries. 
Mackintosh's  biographer  speaks  of  Richard  Sharp  as  a 
friend  whose  good  opinion  Sir  James  Mackintosh  always 
considered  a  sufficient  counterbalance  to  any  amount  of 
general  misrepresentation,  and  Mackintosh  himself  said 
that  he  never  quitted  him  without  feeling  himself  better, 
and  in  better  humor  with  the  world.  ^  I  owe  much  to 
your  society,'  says  Mackintosh  in  a  letter  to  Sharp  in 
January,  1804.  ^  Your  conversation  has  not  only  pleased 
and  instructed  me,  but  it  has  most  materially  contributed 
to  refine  my  taste,  to  multiply  my  innocent  and  indepen- 
dent pleasures,  and  to  make  my  mind  more  tranquil  and 
reasonable.  I  think  you  have  produced  more  effect  on 
my  character  than  any  man  with  whom  I  have  lived.'  * 
Francis  Horner,  writing  to  Lady  Mackintosh  in  1805, 
says :  '  Sharp  I  respect  and  love  more  and  more  every 
day ;  he  has  every  day  new  talents  and  new  virtues  to 
show.'  ^  Sydney  Smith,  in  a  letter  to  Allen  in  1809,  says : 
'Let  the   child   learn   principles   from  Dumont,  Sharp 

1  One  item  of  the  news  is  *  that  Mr.  Gibbon  is  coming  to  England, 
and  brings  with  him  a  work  prepared  for  the  press  ;  the  subject  of  it  is 
not  yet  known.* 

2  Life  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  vol.  i.  p.  196. 
*  Life  of  Francis  Horner,  vol.  i.  p.  297. 


FRIENDSHIP  WITH  RICHARD  SHARP.  245 

shall  teach  him  ease  and  nature ; '  ^  and  Miss  Caroline 
Fox  records  in  her  diary  in  1840  that  John  Mill  spoke 
with  much  interest  of  '  Conversation '  Sharp,  and  said  : 
*  It  was  a  fine  thing  for  me  to  hear  him  and  ray  father 
converse/  These  testimonies  to  his  character  and  genius 
are  borne  out  by  the  letters  and  statements  of  all  his 
friends,  —  and  his  friends  included  nearly  every  distin- 
guished author,  statesman,  and  man  of  society  for  forty 
years.  His  life  has  not  been  written,  but  his  name  is 
prominent  in  most  of  the  memoirs  of  men  who  lived  in 
the  first  thirty-five  years  of  the  present  century.  It  is 
an  honor  to  Rogers  that  such  a  man  should  have  been  his 
fast  friend  till  death  divided  them. 

At  the  time  this  friendship  was  first  formed  Eichard 
Sharp  was  in  business  in  the  City,  and  the  letters  to 
him  bear  the  address  of  Fish-street  Hill.  He  was  al- 
ready a  figure  in  society,  where  his  great  conversational 
powers  and  his  unbounded  goodness  of  heart  made  him 
universally  welcome.  His  judgment  was  trusted  by  all 
who  knew  him,  and  in  later  years  statesmen  went  to  him 
for  counsel  and  advice.  It  would  scarcely  be  too  much 
to  say  that  he  was  the  most  popular  man  in  London 
society  in  his  time.  His  familiar  sobriquet  of  *  Conver- 
sation '  Sharp  indicated  only  his  most  striking  faculty ; 
but  his  power  of  sympathy,  his  insight,  his  large  reading 
and  culture,  more  forcibly  impressed  themselves  on  his 
friends  than  even  his  conversational  powers.  He  soon 
perceived  the  social  faculty  of  his  friend  Eogers,  and 
when  the  death  of  his  father  left  Eogers  master  of  a 
fortune,  urged  him  to  leave  the  distant  suburb  of  Stoke 
Kewington,  and  to  establish  himself  in  London.  Eogers 
felt  the  force  of  his  friend's  reasoning,  enforced  as  it  was 
by  that  friend's  example.  There  was  an  evident  struggle 
in  his  mind  between  the  love  of  home  and  the  love  of 
society,  and  he  turned  it  into  poetry  as  a  poet  should. 

1  Letters  of  Sydney  Smith,  p.  63, 


246  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

It  was  the  origin  of  his  next  poem,  ^An  Epistle  to  a 
Friend.'  But  while  writing  this,  which  many  regard  as 
tlie  most  finished  and  beautiful  of  his  productions,  he 
took  up  his  abode  more  and  more  in  London.  The 
'  Epistle  to  a  Friend '  was  the  mental  protest  with  which 
he  yielded  to  the  social  forces  which  pressed  him  to  take 
advantage  of  his  fame ;  and  he  had  done  his  six  years' 
work  upon  it,  completed  it  and  published  it,  before  he 
finally  gave  up  Stoke  .NTewington,  and  made  a  solitary 
home,  first  in  his  chambers  in  Paper  Buildings,  after- 
wards in  lodgings  in  Prince's  Street,  Hanover  Square, 
and  finally  in  the  well-known  house  in  St.  James's 
Place. 

Some  of  Kogers's  literary  friends  had  already  discov- 
ered his  amiable  willingness  to  help  them  by  counsel, 
or  personal  service,  or  money.  There  is  an  enthusiastic 
letter  from  Kichard  Cumberland  which,  though  without 
date,  may  be  mentioned  here.  It  is  written  in  the  large 
bold  hand  which  well  became  Cumberland's  character. 
Rogers  had  given  him  some  pecuniary  assistance,  and  the 
old  dramatist,  in  writing  his  thanks,  finds  it  difficult  to 
moderate  his  gratitude.  '  Your  bounty  surprised  me,'  he 
says  ;  '  I  hurried  back  on  discovering  its  amount,  resolved 
for  the  moment  to  entreat  you  to  moderate  your  benefac- 
tion.' On  second  thoughts,  however,  he  kept  the  money, 
lest  his  motive  in  returning  it  should  be  misunderstood ; 
and  he  declares  his  uniform  and  unalterable  esteem 
and  love  for  his  generous  friend.  The  declaration  was 
no  doubt  sincere,  and  the  esteem  was  mutual.  Rogers 
always  spoke  of  Cumberland  as  a  pleasant  companion 
and  an  excellent  and  entertaining  talker.  He  was  full  of 
recollections  of  the  stage,  epecially  of  Garrick,  whose 
*Lear'  Cumberland  regarded  as  the  greatest  piece  of 
acting  he  had  seen.  Rogers  records  that  he  linked  with 
this  high  praise  Henderson's  '  Falstaff '  and  Cooke's  '  lago.' 
Garrick  said  of  Cumberland  that  he  was  a  man  without 


HIS   GENEROSITY  TO   FRIENDS.  247 

a  skin.  Cumberland  used  to  repeat  Garrick's  advice  to 
him  :  ^  Make  your  hero  expected  with  impatience.'  He 
told  the  story,  too,  of  Garrick  playing  the  water  wagtail 
on  the  lawn  at  Hampton,  to  the  great  delight  of  Cum- 
berland's children,  'as  they  stood  round  him  one  year 
under  another.'  Another  of  Cumberland's  remarks,  put 
on  record  in  Eogers's  Commonplace  Book,  was  of  the 
greatest  possible  benefit  to  Rogers  :  '  I  hope  it  will  be  put 
on  my  tomb,'  said  Cumberland,  '"Patron  of  the  Flesh- 
brush."  I  have  not  caught  cold  since  I  used  it.'  Rogers 
took  the  hint  and  acted  on  it.  In  his  later  years  he 
spoke  of  the  use  of  the  flesh-brush  as  the  art  of  living 
forever,  and  said  he  had  learned  it  from  Cumberland. 
The  old  playwright  thus  amply  repaid  Rogers's  kind- 
ness to  him.  He  had  led  a  life  of  immense  variety 
and  adventure,  but  had  a  grievance  against  the  Gov- 
ernment, and  became  something  of  a  sycophant  in  his 
latter  days. 

There  is  a  letter  of  this  period  from  a  friend  of  Robert 
Merry's,  who,  though  utterly  unknown  to  Rogers,  makes 
a  pathetic  appeal  for  help.  Rogers  sent  him  the  money 
he  asked  for.  Robert  Merry  himself  seems  to  have 
been  under  similar  obligations.  It  is,  indeed,  a  striking 
feature  in  the  correspondence  between  Rogers  and  his 
political  and  literary  friends  of  three  generations  that 
his  readiness  to  do  them  all  kinds  of  service  is  con- 
stantly assumed  and  acted  upon.  Criticism  of  manu- 
scripts, negotiations  with  publishers,  advice  on  business 
or  travel,  advances  of  money,  are  forms  of  help  constantly 
asked  and  as  constantly  given.  There  are  several  letters 
from  Robert  Merry  in  the  autumn  of  1793  which  show 
both  Rogers's  helpfulness  and  his  political  associations. 
Merry  left  London  in  September  to  go  to  Geneva  with 
his  wife  and  Charles  Pigott,  —  another  of  the  men  wlio 
got  pecuniary  assistance  from  Rogers.  At  Harwich, 
however,  they  heard  so  much  of  the  difficulties  and  dan- 


248  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

gers  of  travel  in  Holland  and  on  the  Ehine  that  they 
turned  back ;  and  Merry  went  to  Scarborough,  whence  he 
writes  to  Eogers  on  the  17th  of  October.  He  is  as  quiet 
there,  he  says,  as  if  he  had  gone  among  the  Alps.  He 
has  an  excellent  ready-furnished  abode,  'looking  boldly 
and  bleakly  to  the  sea,'  for  little  more  than  a  guinea  a 
week,  though  in  the  summer  it  lets  for  from  ten  to  four- 
teen. He  promises  Eogers,  if  he  will  go  down  by  the 
Scarborough  mail,  '  a  good  bed,  a  good  fire,  and  capital 
Yorkshire  stingo.'  He  is  finishing  his  novel,  and  will 
send  it  to  Eogers  for  approval  and  to  arrange  with 
Cadell,  or  any  other  bookseller,  to  bring  it  out.  He 
asks  for  all  the  news.  '  What  is  the  situation  of  Toulon, 
Lyons,  La  Vendee,  Mauberge,  and  the  Duke  of  York's 
army  ?  '  He  has  had  but  two  letters  since  he  left  Lon- 
don, and  both  of  them  had  been  opened,  so  he  is  to  be 
addressed  under  cover  to  somebody  else.  Eogers  is  to 
tell  nobody  that  he  is  still  in  England.  As  no  answer 
came  at  once  he  wrote  again,  fearing  that  his  letter  had 
been  seized  in  the  Post  Ofiice.  In  a  third  letter  on  the 
8th  of  December  he  makes  a  political  reference  written 
for  the  edification  of  Pitt's  Post  Office  spies :  ^  It  is  with 
much  sorrow  that  I  find  those  licentious  and  abandoned 
regicides,  the  French,  have  been  of  late  successful.  God 
grant  that  the  justice  of  our  endeavors  may  meet  with 
its  due  reward!'  He  is  also  'much  afflicted  to  discover 
that  even  here  a  turbulent  democratic  spirit  too  much 
prevails.'  On  the  12th  of  December  he  writes  again,  to 
enclose  a  little  theatrical  piece  for  Mr.  Harris,  of  Covent 
Garden  theatre.  He  conceals  his  name  as  author  — '  not 
to  be  exposed  to  Aristocratic  Malice.'  He  further  de- 
scribes the  piece  as  the  French  play  of  '  Fenelon,'  reduced 
to  three  acts.  He  urges  Eogers  to  get  it  published  if 
Harris  will  not  take  it,  but  not  to  let  the  name  of  the 
translator  be  known  —  'as  the  name  of  a  Eepublican 
would  damn  any  performance  at  this  time.'     '  If  Hayley 


FRIENDSHIP  WITH  ROBERT  MERRY.  249 

is  a  furious  democrat/  he  asks,  'what  must  be  the  scale 
of  patriotism  in  this  country  ?  ^  This  letter  had  begun  in 
Delia  Cruscan  style  :  '  If  you  knew  the  pleasure  I  receive 
in  reading  your  letters  you  would  not  be  sparing  of  them. 
They  allure  me  from  a  boisterous  sea  of  Politics  to  the 
mild  abode  of  Poetry  and  Peace.  It  is  in  solitude  alone 
we  learn  properly  to  estimate  our  comforts,  and  prove 
how  sweetly  the  voice  of  friendship  breathing  instruc- 
tion and  delight  affects  the  soul.  I,  here,  am'  tolerably 
secluded  from  the  world,  and  scarcely  view  a  living  crea- 
ture except  the  hovering  sea-gull  or  the  lonely  cormorant 
traversing  the  distant  waves.  Yet  still  am  I  troubled  by 
the  Revolutionary  Struggle ;  the  great  object  of  human 
happiness  is  never  long  removed  from  my  sight.  Oh 
that  I  could  sleep  for  two  centuries  like  the  youths  of 
Ephesus  and  then  awake  to  a  new  order  of  things !  But 
alas  !  our  existence  must  be  passed  amidst  the  storm ; 
the  fair  season  will  be  for  posterity.'  Ten  months  later, 
on  the  11th  of  October,  1794,  he  writes  in  London  —  but 
giving  his  address  as  Post  Office,  Norwich  —  regretting 
to  have  missed  a  talk  with  Rogers  'on  the  existing 
circumstances  which  seem  to  me,'  he  says,  'to  be  ad- 
vancing to  some  great  catastrophe.'  As  things  stood  he 
felt  some  inclination  to  go  with  Mrs.  Merry  to  America, 
asks  Rogers  to  put  him  in  the  way  how  to  proceed,  and 
promises  to  call  shortly  to  replace  a  few  pounds  he 
feared  he  had  overdrawn  at  the  bank.  He  and  his  wife 
afterwards  went  to  America,  where  he  died  in  1798. 
Gifford's  'Baviad,'  published  in  1794,  may  have  had 
something  to  do  with  this  resolution;  but  the  'aristo- 
cratic malice '  to  which  he  referred  in  the  year  before  its 
issue  —  meaning  by  that  the  disfavor  and  unpopularity 
of  advanced  Liberal  views  in  those  days,  and  the  personal 
danger  to  those  who  held  them  —  was  the  predisposing 
cause  of  his  exile. 

Two  letters  from  Priestley's  friend,  Thomas  Cooper, 


250  EARLY  LIFE   OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

further  illustrate  the  political  characteristics  of  the  times 
and  E-ogers's  relation  to  political  movements.  Cooper 
was  a  Manchester  man  who  seems  to  have  thought  it 
necessary  to  go  where  the  expression  of  opinion  was 
freer  than  it  was  at  that  time  in  England.  He  had 
dined  with  Rogers  at  the  Stock  Exchange  just  before 
leaving  London,  and  wrote  to  him  from  Deal  about  a 
commission  of  Priestley's  ^  that  he  had  forgotten.  The 
letter  is  dated  Sunday,  August  the  24th,  1793,  5  o'clock ; 
and  he  says :  '  I  am  not  yet  on  board,  but  you  may  con- 
clude that  the  receipt  of  this  letter  at  your  house  insures 
to  you  my  safe  delivery  on  board  ship.'  On  the  14th  of 
December  he  writes  from  Philadelphia :  '  I  will  be  at 
your  house  in  February  or  March :  incog,  like  other  great 
men.  Mention  this,  with  strong  injunctions  of  secrecy, 
to  Tuffin  and  Sharp.  I  wish  the  enclosed  letters  to  be 
duly  and  safely  conveyed,  and  having  to  write  to  you  to 
send  Russell  his  letter,  I  do  not  write  to  Tuffin  or  Sharp. 
Russell,  Priestley,  and  T.  Walker  (not  R.  Walker  nor 
any  other  of  my  friends  or  my  family)  know  of  my  inten- 
tion. I  hope  to  come  over  with  a  sufficient  inducement 
for  others  to  return  with  me.'  This  inducement  was  a 
scheme  which  had  been  got  up  by  Joseph  Priestley, 
Cooper  himself,  and  some  other  English  emigrants  for 
an  English  settlement  in  Pennsylvania,  near  the  head  of 
the  Susquehanna  River.  As  there  seemed  to  be  some 
likelihood  that  his  sons  might  fix  themselves  there,  Dr. 
Priestley  himself,  on  his  arrival  in  the  United  States, 
went  on  from  New  York  to  Philadelphia,  and  thence  a 
hundred  and  thirty  miles  up  the  country  to  Northumber- 
land. This  was  a  small  town  at  the  confluence  of  the 
east  and  west  branches  of  the  "Susquehanna,  and  fifty 
miles  from  the  proposed  settlement.     The  scheme  had  to 

1  Prohal)ly  Joseph  Piiestley,  son  of  the  philosopher,  who  with  his 
two  brothers  was  {ilready  setth'tl  in  Anieiica. 


PRIESTLEY'S  DEPARTURE  FOR  AMERICA.       251 

be  abandoned ;  but  Dr.  Priestley  remained  at  Northum- 
berland, where  he  died  on  the  6th  of  February,  1804. 

Merry's  opened  letters  and  Cooper's  secrecy  illustrate 
the  dangers  of  that  m,artyr  age  of  Reform.  Dr.  Priestley 
himself  left  London  in  April,  1794,  urged  to  do  so  by 
numerous  friends,  who  felt  that  he  might  at  any  moment 
be  seized  as  the  next  victim  under  the  White  Terror 
which  the  frightful  doings  in  France  had  conjured  up  in 
England.  Dr.  Price  had  died  in  April,  1791 ;  and  Dr. 
Priestley  had  succeeded  him  as  preacher  at  Hackney  at 
the  close  of  the  year.  Some  account  of  conversations  in 
which  Dr.  Priestley,  Cooper,  and  other  Liberals  took 
part  in  the  few  years  of  his  residence  in  London,  has 
already  been  given  in  extracts  from  Rogers's  diary  in  the 
preceding  chapter.  After -the  iniquitous  sentence  of 
seven  years'  transportation  which  had  been  passed  on 
the  Rev.  Thomas  Fyshe  Palmer,  a  Unitarian  minister  in 
Dundee,  it  was  felt  that  no  Liberal  was  safe.  A  few 
poor  men  in  that  town,  imitating  the  influential  body  in 
London,  had  formed  a  society  of  Friends  of  the  People. 
They  prepared  an  address  to  their  fellow-citizens  to 
which  Mr.  Palmer  had  given  literary  form.  It  is  most 
moderate  in  tone  and  just  in  sentiment ;  but  Mr.  Palmer 
was  prosecuted  for  sedition,  and  at  a  trial  in  which  the 
judge  allowed  his  religious  opinions  to  be  urged  as 
grounds  for  his  condemnation  on  a  political  charge,  was 
found  guilty  and  sentenced,  and  the  sentence  was  rigor- 
ously carried  out.  Dr.  Priestley's  friends  were  naturally 
alarmed  lest  he  should  fall  a  victim  to  the  same  malevo- 
lent tyranny,  and  it  seems  probable  that  he  was  not  too 
early  in  placing  himself  beyond  King  George's  beneficent 
sway.  It  was  one  of  Rogers's  boasts  that  the  exiled 
philosopher  and  divine  spent  his  last  night  in  England 
under  his  roof. 

Dr.  Priestley  had  scarcely  been  gone  six  weeks  when 
two  of  Rosrers's  intimate  friends  were  arrested  for  hi^-h 


252  EARLY  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL   ROGERS. 

treason.  On  the  14th  of  May,  Mr.  William  Stone  was 
arrested,  and  after  various  examinations,  was  committed 
to  iSTewgate.  Home  Tooke  was  carried  to  the  Tower  under 
circumstances  which  he  has  himself  put  on  record  in  a 
memorandum  in  a  volume  he  afterwards  gave  to  Rogers. 
This  memorandum  is  published  as  a  note  to  Rogers's 
'Recollections'^  of  his  friend.  'I  was  apprehended,' 
says  Home  Tooke,  'at  Wimbledon,  Friday,  ]\Iay  16, 
conducted  to  the  Tower,  Monday,  May  19,  1794,  with- 
out any  charge ;  nor  can  I  conjecture  their  pretence  of 
charge.  Mr.  Dundas,  Secretary  of  State,  told  me  in  the 
Privy  Council  that  "  It  was  conceived  that  I  was  guilty  of 
treasonable  practices."  He  refused  to  tell  me  by  whom 
it  was  conceived.'  Home  Tooke  was  tried  in  November, 
and  Rogers  was  present.  He  often  told  the  story  in 
later  days,  especially  dwelling  on  Erskine's  incomparable 
pantomime. 2  The  attorney-general,  Sir  John  Scott,  in 
replying  for  the  Crown,  used  arguments  for  which  Erskine 
was  not  prepared,  and  to  which  he  would  have  no  oppor- 
tunity of  reply.  Erskine  drew  the  attention  of  the  jury 
to  himself,  and  by  shrugs  of  the  shoulders,  shakings  of 
the  head,  and  other  significant  gestures  conveyed  to 
them  his  sense  of  the  astonishing  audacity  and  worthless- 
ness  of  his  opponent's  statements.  Home  Tooke  was 
acquitted ;  and  as  he  left  the  court  a  lady,  who  described 
herself  as  a  daughter  of  one  of  the  jurymen,  came  up  and 
asked  to  be  introduced  to  him.  He  shook  her  warmly 
by  the  hand  and  said:  'Then  give  me  leave,  madam, 
to  call  you  sister,  for  your  father  has  just  given  me 
life.'  Juries  like  that  which  acquitted  Home  Tooke, 
not  only  saved  the  lives  of  the  men  they  refused  to  con- 

1  Rogers's  'Recollections,'  p.  140. 

2  Mr.  Hay  ward  (Ed.  Rev.  July,  1856)  quotes  Mr.  Dyce's  account  of 
Rogers  telling  the  atory,  as  an  illustration  of  the  carelessness  by  which 
Mr.  Dyce  *has  repeatedly  made  Rogers  use  phraseology  he  notoriously 
disliked,  and  fall  into  errors  of  which  he  would  have  been  ashamed.' 


WILLIAM  STONE'S  TRIAL.  253 

vict,  but  saved  the  country  itself  from  being  compelled 
to  choose  between  despotism  and  revolution.  Rogers 
heartily  sympathized  with  his  persecuted  political  friends. 
Twenty  years  later  —  when  Home  Tooke  had  been  some 
time  dead,  and  Rogers  had  seen  much  of  him  in  that 
quiet  old  age  in  which  Rogers  afterwards  said  his  man- 
ners and  conversation  reminded  him  of  a  calm  sunset  in 
October  —  he  turned  the  circumstances  of  the  trial  into 
poetry.  Home  Tooke  was  evidently  in  his  mind  when 
he  wrote  his  *  Human  Life.' 

It  was  more  than  a  year  before  Rogers's  friend,  Mr. 
William  Stone,  at  whose  house  at  Hackney  he  had  met 
Paine,  and  who  had  introduced  him  to  Fox,  was  brought 
up  for  trial.  One  day  in  January,  1796,  Rogers  read 
in  the  morning  paper  at  breakfast  that  a  summons  had 
been  issued  to  bring  him  before  the  Privy  Council.  His 
horse  was  ready  to  take  him  as  usual  to  the  bank,  and 
he  rode  at  once  into  town  and  then  drove  in  a  coach  to 
Downing  Street.  He  asked  for  Mr.  Dundas,  and  was 
shown  into  the  presence  of  that  Minister.  He  inquired 
with  some  nervousness  what  ^vas  the  meaning  of  the 
announcement  he  had  seen  in  the  papers.  Dundas  re- 
plied by  asking  what  conveyance  he  had  with  him,  and 
learning  that  it  was  a  hackney  coach  proposed  to  go 
with  him  to  the  Home  Office.  There  Rogers  was  told 
that  he  was  required  as  a  witness  in  the  trial  of  William 
Stone  for  high  treason.  In  March,  1794,  Stone  had  met 
him  in  the  Strand,  and  told  him  a  gentleman  had  applied 
to  him  to  learn  the  sentiments  of  the  people  of  England 
as  to  an  invasion  from  France.  ^I  rather  declined 
the  conversation,'  said  Rogers  in  his  evidence.  *  I  was 
in  a  hurry,  and  I  told  him  I  had  no  wish  to  take  part 
in  any  political  transactions  at  that  time.  It  was  a 
time  of  general  alarm,  and  I  wished  to  shun  even  the 
shadow  of  an  imputation,. —  as  I  knew  when  the  minds 
of  men  were  agitated,  as  I  thought  they  then  were,  the 


254  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

most  innocent  intentions  were  liable  to  misconstruction.' 
In  reply  to  further  questions  he  said  that  Stone  had 
afterwards  called  on  him  with  a  paper,  in  which  it  was 
shown  that,  however  the  English  people  might  differ 
among  themselves,  they  would  unite  to  repel  an  invasion  ; 
and  he  had  expressed  the  opinion  that  he  should  do  his 
duty  if  by  stating  this,  which  he  believed  to  be  true,  he 
could  save  his  country  from  invasion.  Mr.  Stone  was 
acquitted,  but  one  result  of  the  trial  was  that  Kogers  — 
who,  though  always  an  ardent  Liberal,  had  no  passion  for 
politics  —  was  less  inclined  than  ever  to  take  any  active 
part  in  the  political  agitations  of  a  time  when  the  Habeas 
Corpus  Act  was  suspended  and  there  was  a  reign  of 
terror  in  England.  ^  You  will  infect  me  like  the  plague,' 
he  had  said  to  his  friend  Stone  during  the  conversation 
which  was  the  subject  of  his  evidence  ;  and  he  avoided 
the  infection,  though  not  by  keeping  away  from  his 
friends.  The  political  danger  may  ha,ve  been  one  cause 
of  the  discontinuance  of  the  diary  which  recorded  the 
conversation  at  their  dinner-tables.  The  brief  record  of 
the  toasts  drunk  at  Mr.  Morgan's  table,^  and  of  Paine's 
remarks  on  kings,  might  have  been  made  evidence  against 
him  had  the  Ministers  of  the  day  known  that  it  was  in 
existence. 

It  is  pleasant  to  turn  from  the  gloomy  aspect  of 
public  affairs  in  those  miserable  times  to  the  brighter 
world  of  poetry  in  which  Rogers  loved  to  dwell,  and  to 
the  social  intercourse  with  pleasant  people  he  diligently 
cultivated.  As  we  look  back  to  those  years  we  can 
scarcely  wonder  that  Wordsworth  gave  up  some  of  his 
earlier  aspirations,  or  that  Southey  went  over  to  the 
reactionary  side.  It  is  to  Rogers's  lasting  credit  that 
he  never  forsook  his  political  friends.  Poetry,  and  not 
politics,  was  his  pursuit ;  but  he  kept  to  the  Liberal  side 
through  all  the  weary  years  of  its  depression  and  dis- 

J  Chap.  VIII.  p.  216. 


HIS  'EPISTLE  TO   A  FRIEND/  255 

couragement.  Wordsworth  in  the  most  beautiful  of  his 
early  poems  ^  speaks  of  the  '  tranquil  restoration '  which 
the  dim  recollection  of  IS'^ature's  beauties  had  brought ; 

and  of  — 

' .  .  .  that  blessed  mood 
In  which  the  burden  and  the  mystery, 
In  which  the  heavy  and  the  weary  weight 
Of  all  this  unintelligible  world, 
Is  lightened '  — 

which  contact  with  Nature  produced.  Eogers  felt  the 
same  tranquil  restoration  in  talk  with  authors  and 
literary  men  on  the  literary  topics  of  the  time,  and  in 
poetry  itself.  He  was  writing  his  '  Epistle  to  a  Friend,' 
and  in  this  year  wrote  the  lines  —  which  were  published 
in  the  earlier  editions,  but  were  afterwards  omitted  —  in 
which  he  pays  his  first  tribute  to  Fox,  and  speaks  of 
Home  Tooke,  who  had  just  been  defeated  in  his  second 
candidature  for  Westminster,  with  a  reverence  that  in 
those  days  few  would  have  paid  him  :  — 

*  Hail,  sweet  Society  !  in  crowds  unknown. 
Though  the  vain  world  would  claim  thee  for  its  own, 
Still  where  thy  small  and  cheerful  converse  flows 
Be  mine  to  enter,  ere  the  circle  close. 
When  in  retreat  Fox  lays  his  thunder  by, 
And  Wit  and  Taste  their  mingled  charms  supply  ; 
When  Siddons,  born  to  melt  and  freeze  the  heart. 
Performs  at  home  her  more  endearing  part ; 
When  he,  who  best  interprets  to  mankind 
The  winged  messengers  from  mind  to  mind, 
Leans  on  his  spade,  and  playful  as  profound 
His  genius  sheds  its  evening  sunshine  round  ; 
Be  mine  to  listen,  pleased  yet  not  elate, 
Ever  too  modest  or  too  proud  to  rate 
Myself  by  my  companions  ;  self-compelled 
To  earn  the  station  that  in  life  I  held.' 

1  Tintern  Abbey. 


256  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

He  was  often  with  Home  Tooke  at  Wimbledon  in  these 
years,  and  the  talks  with  him  in  his  garden,  as  he  leaned 
upon  his  spade,  supplied  some  of  the  material  of  the 
*  Kecollections.'  An  illustration  of  Fox  laying  his  thun- 
der by  has  been  given  in  the  preceding  chapter  in  the  ex- 
tract from  the  diary  which  records  the  evening  spent  with 
Fox  and  Sheridan  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Stone.  There 
are  many  other  examples  of  the  great  orator's  familiar 
moods  in  the  '  Eecollections,'  which,  as  Eogers  himself 
says,  ^  show  his  playfulness,  his  love  of  letters,  and  his 
good  nature  in  unbending  himself  to  a  young  man.' 

Rogers  had  long  known  Mrs.  Siddons  where  she  per- 
formed ^  her  more  endearing  part,'  and  in  the  year  before 
the  lines  in  the  *  Epistle '  were  written  she  had  asked 
him  to  write  an  epilogue  to  be  spoken  by  her  on  her 
benefit  night.  The  '  Epilogue  '  as  published  in  the 
Poems  is  said  in  a  note  to  have  been  spoken  by  Mrs. 
Siddons  ^  after  a  tragedy  performed  for  her  benefit  at 
the  Theatre  Eoyal,  Drury  Lane,  April  27,  1795.'  The 
stanzas  are  printed  as  they  were  written,  not  as  they 
were  spoken.  Mrs.  Siddons  made  some  changes  and  ab- 
breviations in  them,  for  which  she  apologizes  in  the  fol- 
lowing letter :  — 

Mrs.  Siddons  to  S.  Rogers. 

'  My  dear  Mr.  Eogers,  —  I  know  your  goodness  will 
pardon  the  liberties  I  have  taken  of  curtailing  and  a  little 
altering  the  "Epilogue,''  and  tho'  my  having  two  long 
parts  to  perform  upon  my  benefit  night  will  make  it 
painful  to  me  to  speak  more  of  it,  yet  as  you  will  probably 
let  that  appear  among  your  other  elegant  productions, 
you  will  unquestionably  print  it  as  it  was  originally 
written.  I  'm  afraid  my  friends  will  think  they  have  too 
much  of  a  good  thing,  for  I  am  desired  by  those  whom  I 
must  not  refuse  to  play  Emmeline  in  "  Edgar  and  Emme- 


MES.   SIDDONS.  257 

line  "  (a  fairy  tale)  and  to  speak  the  epilogue  to  it ;  so  I 
think  they  will  have  enough  of  me,  and  all  this  (beside 
my  part  in  the  play  which  is  quite  new  to  me)  I  have 
got  to  learn.  Pity  and  pardon  and  believe  me,  my  dear 
sir, 

'  Your  very  much  obliged 

'  And  affectionate  humble  servant, 

^S.  SiDDONS. 

*  I  send  you  the  original  "  Epilogue  '^  to  compare  with 
the  copy  ;  and  as  I  think  the  trifling  alterations  I  have, 
presuming  on  your  kindness,  made,  will  have  a  rather 
better  stage  effect,  I  hope  they  will  not  be  disagreeable  to 
you.  Pray  have  the  goodness  to  return  it  immediately, 
for,  as  Mr.  S.  Lysons  would  say  :  "  I  must  begin  and  study 
like  a  dragon  !  " ' 

Another  letter  from  the  great  actress,  written  on  an 
ample  sheet  of  the  old-fashioned  letter  paper,  contains  a 
ticket  bearing  the  words  :  '  Mrs.  Siddons's  Night,  Theatre 
Royal  Drury  Lane  Company.'  It  bears  her  monogram 
and  her  written  initials,  for  Box  No.  664  :  — 

^With  Mrs.  Siddons'  comps.  «&  thanks  to  Mr.  Eogers. 
With  respect  to  the  Verses  — 

"  Never  let  your  noble  courage  be  cast  down.  " 

*AprU25,  1795.' 

He  did  not  let  his  noble  courage  be  cast  down,  though 
he  was  free  from  the  conceit  which  buoys  up  the  spirits 
of  many  inferior  men,  and  was  never  quite  content  with 
what  he  had  written.  The  *  Epilogue '  is  certainly  none 
the  worse  for  the  absence  of  that  careful  elaboration 
which  he  gave  to  some  of  his  poems,  and  it  associated 
his  name  with  one  of  the  greatest  reputations  of  the  time. 
Mrs.  Siddons  spoke  it  after  the  play  of  ^  Mahomet  the  Im- 
postor,' in  which  she  acted  the  part  of  Palmyra.     Speak- 

17 


258  EARLY  LITE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

ing  of  the  '  Occasional  Address  ^  which  followed  the  play, 
the  ^  True  Briton '  said  :  *  We  know  not  which  most  to 
praise,  its  poetical  merits  or  her  delivery  of  it/  The 
changes  made  by  Mrs.  Siddons  are  recorded  in  Eogers's 
Commonplace  Book.  They  are  simply  such  as  make  it 
more  personal  and  direct. 

'  I  wake,  I  breathe  and  am  myself  again,' 

becomes  — 

*  I  wake,  I  breathe,  I  am  myself  again.' 

And  — 

'  Ah  no  !  she  scorns  the  trappings  of  her  Art, 
No  theme  but  truth,  no  prompter  but  the  heart !  * 

became  — 

'  Oh  no,  I  scorn  the  trappings  of  my  Art, 
My  theme  is  truth,  my  prompter  is  my  heart.* 

The  two  lines  — 

'  Thus  Woman  makes  her  entrance  and  her  exit, 
Not  least  an  actress  when  she  least  suspects  it ; ' 

were  delivered  — 

*  Yes,  fair  ones,  you  've  your  entrance  and  your  exit, 
And  most  you  're  acting  when  you  least  suspect  it.' 

And  the  last  four  — 

*  Thus^  from  her  mind  all  artifice  she  flings, 

All  skill,  all  practice  —  now  unmeaning  things. 
To  you,  unchecked,  each  genuine  feeling  flows, 
For  all  that  life  endears  to  you  she  owes ;  * 

were  delivered  — 

*  No !  from  her  heart  all  artifice  she  flings. 
All  skill,  all  practice,  now  unmeaning  things. 
Unbounded  now  each  genuine  feeling  flows 
For  all  that  life  endears  —  to  you  she  owes.' 


A  LIFE  OF  CULTIVATED  EASE.  259 

The  cordial  reception  accorded  to  this  '  Epilogue '  was 
rightly  regarded  by  its  author  as  a  sign  that  his  literary 
position  was  already  fully  established.  'His  society/ 
says  his  nephew,  '  was  eagerly  sought  for  by  ladies  of 
fashion  as  well  as  by  men  of  letters.  His  father  when 
young,  and  living  in  Worcestershire,  had  mixed  with  the 
men  of  rank  in  his  own  neighborhood.  He  had  been 
intimate  with  the  Earl  of  Stamford  and  Warrington  and 
that  excellent  man  the  first  Lord  Lyttelton,  the  poet, 
and  his  son-in-law  Lord  Valentia,  the  father  of  the  trav- 
eller. But  though  such  society  had  been  cultivated  by 
the  grandfather  at  "The  Hill,"  it  was  by  no  means  to  the 
father's  taste.  On  settling  in  Newington  Green  he  was 
glad  to  drop  his  titled  acquaintance ;  and  he  gave  his  son 
the  strong  advice  :  "  Never  go  near  them,  Sam  !  "  But 
their  doors  were  now  open  to  the  young  and  wealthy  poet, 
and  he  did  not  refuse  to  enter.'  At  this  period  he  was 
just  beginning  to  shake  himself  free  from  business.  His 
brother  Henry  came  of  age  in  the  summer  of  1795,  and 
was  at  once  made  a  partner  in  the  bank,  and  gradually 
intrusted  with  its  management.  He  proved  to  be  an 
excellent  man  of  business,  and  the  elder  brother  soon  saw 
that  he  could  with  the  utmost  confidence  leave  everything 
in  his  hands.  Thus  year  by  year  the  way  seemed  to  be 
opening  to  Samuel  Rogers  into  the  life  of  cultivated  ease, 
of  literary  and  artistic  friendships,  and  of  social  celebrity 
and  success  of  which  he  had  only  dimly  dreamed  in  earlier 
days.  '  We  never  go  so  far,'  says  Guizot,  ^  as  when  we 
know  not  whither  we  are  going ; '  and  Rogers  exemplified 
the  axiom.  He  was  gradually  detaching  himself  from 
business  on  the  one  hand,  and  from  the  home  at  Stoke 
Newington  on  the  other;  and  circumstances  concurred 
in  a  striking  manner  to  urge  him  forward  in  the  course 
to  which  his  tastes  inclined  him,  but  with  which  his  old 
associations  were  in  conflict.  The  home  at  Stoke  New- 
ington  was  breaking  up.    Mary  Worthington,  the  'Milly' 


260  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

of  the  family  letters,  who  had  lived  with  Thomas  Kogers 
and  his  wife,  and  had  always  been  the  oldest  of  the 
familiar  faces  in  the  Stoke  Newington  home,  died  in 
November,  1795.  Samuel  Eogers  had  entered  her  name 
in  his  own  hand  in  the  family  Bible,  under  the  family 
list :  *  Mary  Worthington,  born  November  27,  1716, 
died  2d  of  November,  1795.'  In  the  same  year  his  sis- 
ter Maria  had  been  married  to  his  friend  Sutton  Sharpe. 
There  remained  at  home  only  his  brother  Henry, 
his  sister  Sarah,  and  Miss  Mitchell,  who,  as  has  been 
previously  stated,  lived  with  the  family  till  her  death 
in  1812. 

Among  the  few  relics  of  a  large  correspondence  with 
literary  and  other  friends  at  this  period  are,  a  very  char- 
acteristic letter  from  Dr.  Moore  to  Rogers,  and  one  from 
Rogers  to  his  friend  Richard  Sharp.  The  two  letters 
curiously  exhibit  the  relations  in  which  he  stood  towards 
these  very  diiferent  men.  The  author  of  '  Zeluco  '  had 
sent  Rogers  a  manuscript  to  read  and  criticise;  and 
Rogers,  as  was  his  wont  even  then,  had  kept  it  so  long 
that  the  author  became  anxious  for  its  safety.  The  man- 
uscript was,  in  all  probability,  that  of  Dr.  Moore's  work 
published  in  the  next  year  under  the  title  of  '  A  View 
of  the  Causes  and  Progress  of  the  French  Revolution.' 


*  Clifford  Street,  Sept.  17,  1794. 

*  '  Dear  Sir,  —  Your  letter  of  the  16th  gave  me  great 
pleasure,  because  I  really  thought  some  mischief  had 
come  on  the  manuscript,  not  one  page  of  which  could  I 
have  ever  renewed.  I  am  now  easy,  and  I  beg  you  will 
not  put  yourself  to  the  least  hurry,  as  I  can  now  wait 
with  patience  and  tranquillity  till  it  is  convenient  for 
you. 

^  As  for  your  verbal  criticisms  I  would  not  give  a  damn 
for  them,  because  I  have  always  been  subject  to  forget 


DR.  MOORE  AND   R.  SHARP.  261 

words  and  letters  in  writing;  and  I  am  more  careless 
in  what  goes  to  the  press  than  in  a  letter  to  a  friend, 
because  my  compositor  is  the  most  accurate  man  on 
earth.  What  I  expect  from  you  are  alterations  of  more 
importance,  which  affect  the  truth  and  justness  of  the 
observations  and  the  spirit  of  the  composition.  If  I  did 
not  value  your  judgment  in  those  particulars  I  should 
not  have  troubled  you  on  the  subject,  and  if  you  do  not 
think  I  am  able  to  bear  the  severest  remark  that  you  can 
make  with  good  humor,  you  do  me  injustice.  Although 
I  might  think  your  remarks  ill-founded  it  would  not  de- 
stroy my  friendship  for  you, —  which  is  founded  on  another 
unalterable  basis  besides  my  opinion  of  your  taste  in 
works  of  literature. 

^  Yours  sincerely, 

*  J.  Moore. 
<P.S.  — Do  not  show  the  MS.' 

The  letter  to  Eichard  Sharp  is  a  year  later.  It  is 
the  earliest  part  of  the  correspondence  between  these  two 
friends  which  has  been  preserved;  but  it  must  not  be 
regarded  as  indicating  the  full  nature  of  their  intercourse. 
They  had  common  political  relations,  such  as  letters 
from  other  persons  have  already  indicated,  and  large 
correspondence  on  literary  topics.  But  they  were  both 
young  and  both  unmarried,  and  yet  neither  of  them  had 
given  up  the  intention  of  matrimony,  —  though  Eogers,  at 
least,  was  not  engaged.  He  was,  of  course,  regarded  as 
an  eligible  person,  he  had  much  of  the  susceptibility  of 
the  poet,  and  there  is  evidence  in  this  letter,  as  well  as 
in  others,  that  he  had  been  more  than  once  in  love.  He 
would  naturally  tell  the  story  of  his  social  successes  to 
the  friend  who  was  most  in  his  confidence,  —  and  that 
friend  was  Eichard  Sharp. 


262  EARLY   LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

S.  Bogers  to  Richard  Sharp. 

'Margate  [Oct.  15,  1795]. 

^  My  dear  Sharp,  —  Surely  I  am  the  most  miserable 
dog  alive,  the  most  dependent  on  the  opinion  of  others, 
in  heaven  to-day,  sent  ad  inferos  to-morrow,  —  now  sleep- 
less from  ecstasy,  now  from  despondency.  I  will  live  so 
no  longer.  Badinage  apart,  I  have  been  making  experi- 
ments on  my  own  heart  in  this  great  laboratory  by  the 
sea-side.  I  dropped  it  into  the  crucible,  and  when  I 
looked  for  it  again,  it  was  —  shall  I  say  not  there  ?  No, 
but  it  was  not  so  sound  as  I  left  it.  I  have  been  fooling 
away  a  fortnight,  and  am  neither  better  nor  happier  for 
it.  Yet  how  long  is  the  retrospect!  In  this  foolish 
place  every  day  is  a  little  drama.  My  first  week  was 
almost  entirely  spent  in  the  company  of  a  girl  whose  face 
you  know,  whose  beauty  you  must  have  felt,  —  at  least  I 
did.  She  seemed  sinking,  and  I  could  have  wept  when  I 
looked  at  her ;  but  she  left  Margate,  and  I  looked  about 
for  somebody  else.  My  second  has  passed  miscellane- 
ously. Mrs.  Gillies  has  some  beauty  from  Dover  Street, 
and  I  have  been  flattered,  amused,  and  tortured  succes- 
sively beyond  description.  On  Saturday  when  I  dined 
there  it  was  actual  war,  and  I  did  not  mean  to  open  my 
lips  to  her  High  Mightiness  again ;  but  to-day  she  made 
me  go  with  her  to  the  painter's  to  make  my  criticisms  on 
her  miniature.  The  white  flag  has  resumed  its  place, 
and  I  think  will  hardly  be  taken  down  again.  She  goes 
to-morrow  with  Dr.^  and  Mrs.  G[illies]. 

^  But  what  will  you  say  when  I  tell  you  that  I  was  at 
the  last  ball  introduced,  by  her  own  desire  and  previous 
arrangement,  to  a  girl  whose  face  distracted  me  at  the 
opera  concert  last  winter,  but  whose  name  I  did  not 
know,  and  whose  face  and  fortune  together  have  turned 

1  Dr.  John  Gillies,  the  historian  of  Greece  and  translator  of  Aristotle. 


LOVE  AFFAIRS.  263 

all  the  heads  in  the  island  ?  To-day,  though  I  had  not 
exchanged  three  words  with  her,  she  walked  several 
yards  up  to  me  at  a  review,  and  conversed  half  an  hour, 
as  I  sat  on  horseback,  by  the  clock  of  St.  Peter's.  She 
is,  indeed,  the  most  touching  girl  now  left  in  the  island, 
but  I  fear  she  amuses  terself  at  the  expense  of  other 
people,  and  therefore  stand  on  the  defensive.  Eoger 
Palmer  has  been  giving  her  dinners  innumerable  at  Peg- 
well,  and  Miles  P.  Andrews,^  who  has  been  driving  about 
his  four  horses,  has  been  making  love  to  her  these  six 
weeks,  and  has  made  me  the  confidant  of  his  hopes  and 
fears.  But  the  last  is  just  gone,  full  of  love  and  hope. 
These,  you  will  say,  are  neither  of  them  very  formidable 
rivals,  nor,  I  believe,  has  the  first  any  thought  of  it. 
When  I  have  reconnoitred  the  ground  a  little  you  shall 
know  more. 

*  Mrs.  Cowley  ^  is  here,  and  is  really  a  very  agreeable 
woman.  Eeynolds  the  dramatist  is  also  here,  and  is  a 
very  good-humored  fellow,  though  a  little  out  of  spirits 
from  having  singed  his  wings  at  the  flame  above- 
mentioned.  Colonel  Barre  *  is  here,  and  Mackintosh  is 
at  Broadstairs,  so  that  I  find  tolerable  society.  I  live 
alone  in  a  small  cottage,  with  a  vine  over  the  front  and 
benches  at  the  door,  very  cheerfully  looking  into  a  field, 

1  Mr.  Miles  Peter  Andrews  was  a  member  of  the  celebrated  firm  of 
gunpowder  manufacturers  at  Dartford.  He  entered  Parliament  as 
Member  for  Bewdley  in  1790,  and  was  re-elected  without  opposition  in 
1796,  1802,  1806,  and  1807.  He  bad  been  an  intimate  friend  of  Garrick 
and  Foote,  and  of  the  *  wicked  Lord  Lyttelton,'  who  left  him  a  bequest 
in  his  will.  He  was  the  author  of  a  number  of  comedies  and  some 
operas.  His  '  Mysteries  of  the  Castle  ;  a  Dramatic  Tale  in  three  Acts,' 
had  been  performed  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre  with  a  strong  cast 
in  the  January  before  Rogers  met  him  at  Margate.  He  bought  Lord 
Grenville's  house  and  became  a  prominent  man  of  fashion.  He  died 
in  1814. 

2  Mrs.  Cowley,  the  Delia  Cruscan  poetess. 

2  Colonel  Barre  had  been  a  personal  and  political  friend  of  Dr.  Price. 


264  EARLY  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

and  furnisliing  more  room  than  I  want  at  a  guinea  per 
week.  Parsons  is  not  here,  nor  do  I  now  expect  him. 
Weston  was  here  for  a  day  or  two,  but  caught  the  spleen 
and  vanished  before  I  came.  My  Muse  is  neither  asleep 
nor  awake,  she  is  very  stupid.  I  thank  you  most  sin- 
cerely for  your  good  wishes,  but  am  sorry  to  say  they 
are  not  yet  fulfilled.  I  shall,  however,  return  with  such 
a  magazine  of  female  freaks  and  follies  as  will  serve 
to  furnish  many  a  sublime  speculation  when  we  sit  in 
council  together.  Adieu!  You  wrote  me  a  charming 
letter  about  myself,  and  I  blush  to  think  that  I  have 
confined  myself  to  the  same  subject.  If  ever  you  should 
pass  near  the  precincts  of  the  Temple,  will  jon  visit  my 
nutshell  and  take  a  peep  at  our  architectural  experi- 
ments ?  The  sublime  dreams  of  a  Piranesi  vanish  before 
them. 

*  Yours  at  all  times  and  in  all  places, 

*  Wednesday  morning.' 

The  reply  to  this  letter  has  not  been  preserved,  and 
here,  for  a  couple  of  years,  the  correspondence  ceases. 
The  intercourse  between  the  friends  was  constant,  and 
was  necessarily  gresitly  facilitated  by  Eogers's  removal 
from  his  remote  suburban  home  to  chambers  in  the 
Temple.  Among  the  friends  he  made  in  this  period  of  his 
life  was  Mackintosh.  The  brilliant  author  of  '  Vindicise 
Gallicse '  had  been  eating  his  way  to  the  bar,  to  which  he 
was  called  in  1795.  He  and  Eichard  Sharp  were  in  the 
habit  of  meeting  each  other  at  Rogers's  lodgings,  where, 
as  he  told  Mr.  Dyce,  they  would  stay  for  hours  talking 
metaphysics.  Rogers  made  no  secret  of  his  dislike  of 
the  subject,  though  he  was  far  from  indifferent  to  some 
of  the  most  fascinating  themes  of  transcendental  specu- 
lation. The  only  two  occasions  of  offence  between  him 
and  Sharp  arose  out  of  Sharp's  fondness  for  metaphysics. 


ANECDOTES   OF  R.  SHARP.  265 

One  day  at  Eogers's  chambers,  Mackintosh  and  Sharp 
were  so  intent  on  the  abstract  considerations  into  which 
he  did  not  care  to  plunge  that  he  went  out,  paid  a  visit, 
and  returned  to  find  them  still  so  absorbed  that  they  did 
not  know  he  had  been  away.  He  was  angry,  and  sat 
down  to  write  his  letters.  On  a  later  occasion  Sharp  and 
Eogers  were  together  at  Ulleswater,  and  Kogers  made 
a  remark  on  the  favorite  topic  of  his  friend.  '  There  are 
only  two  men  in  England  with  whom  I  ever  talk  on  meta- 
physics,' said  Sharp.  Eogers  took  no  offence,  though  his 
sister  Sarah,  who  was  at  the  Lakes  with  him,  said  he 
should  have  left  him  at  once. 

The  friendship  of  these  two  men  was  not  to  be  broken 
off  by  so  paltry  a  misunderstanding.  If  they  could  not 
talk  metaphysics  together,  they  talked  of  everything 
else,  politics  and  theology  included.  Kogers,  however, 
knew  but  little  of  his  friend's  early  history.  He  used 
to  tell  a  story  of  a  curious  meeting  at  Glencoe  between 
Kichard  Sharp  and  a  friend  of  his  father's.  Sharp  and 
a  friend  had  found  the  inn  crammed,  and  had  been  sent 
by  the  landlord  to  the  house  of  a  laird  who  was  willing 
to  give  hospitality  to  travellers.  They  were  cordially 
received,  and  in  the  evening  talked  with  their  host  of 
people  and  places  they  knew.  The  host  mentioned 
Newfoundland.  '  Have  you  been  there  ? '  asked  his 
guest.  '  I  spent  some  time  there  when  I  was  in  the 
army,'  answered  the  host,  *and  the  dearest  friend  I  ever 
had  was  a  gentleman  I  knew  there  of  the  name  of 
Sharp.'  ^I  am  his  son,'  said  Sharp  with  much  emotion; 
at  which  the  laird  embraced  him  with  a  warmth  which 
found  expression  in  tears. 

There  are  about  this  date  some  entries  in  Kogers's 
Commonplace  Book  which  give  glimpses  of  the  talk  of 
his  numerous  literary  friends. 

Dr.  Price  was  told  by  Mr.  Hume  that  when  Rousseau  came 
with  him  to  England  he  suspected  that  he  was  seduced  over  to 


266  EARLY  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

be  poisoned ;  and  on  the  way  one  night,  as  they  lay  in  separate 
rooms  divided  by  a  single  partition,  Rousseau  heard  Mr.  Hume 
cry  out  in  his  sleep :  '  I  've  got  you,  Rousseau ;  I  've  got  you ! ' 
Rousseau  left  him  and  went  off  into  Derbyshire,  where  he  took  it 
into  his  head  that  the  people  of  England  had  entered  into  a  con- 
spiracy against  him,  and  wrote  up  to  the  Minister  for  a  guard  to 
escort  him  out  of  the  kingdom.  Hume,  with  much  difficulty,  pre- 
vailed on  the  king  to  grant  Rousseau  a  pension  of  £lOO  a  year; 
but  when  he  was  informed  of  it,  he  spurned  it  as  an  affront.  He 
stayed  here  two  years.  Voltaire  said  of  him  that  he  believed  half 
the  world  were  employed  in  raising  a  statue  to  him  and  the  other 
half  in  beating  it  down  again. 

The  Duke  of  Bedford  regretted  to  leave  his  steward's  house 
by  the  park-side  where  he  had  resided  while  his  fortune  was  at 
nurse :  in  parvis  maxima  voluptas. 

Du  Tens,  the  writer,  possesses  an  invaluable  copy  of  Madame 
du  Barry's  '  Memoirs.'  She  says  she  was  caught  by  a  shower  in 
the  garden  at  Versailles  when  walking  with  the  king,  and  that 
they  were  wet  through.  The  Duke  of  Richelieu  has  in  this  copy 
written  this  marginal  note  — '  That  is  not  true,  for  I  was  with 
them  and  held  an  umbrella  over  her.*, 

Mackintosh  has  just  paid  a  visit  of  two  days  at  Beaconsfield, 
and  was  well  received.  M.  acknowledged  that,  when  he  wrote 
his  book,  he  was  misinformed  as  to  the  facts. 

Burke  often  complained  of  the  discord  and  intractability  of  our 


[Asked]  Is  he  an  important  man,  Warton  [answered]  *  I  never 
knew  anything  in  an  important  man.' 

Collins's  first  performance  at  school  contained  this  line  —  *  And 
every  grammar  clapt  its  leathern  wings.*  Warton  admired  Sheri- 
dan's parliamentary  speeches,  not  his  *  School  for  Scandal,'  first 
written  in  two  acts  —  a  number  of  people  met  together,  uncon- 
nected, and  not  aiding  the  plot.  Johnson  always  abused  '  Para- 
dise Lost,'  and  said,  '  None  of  you  can  read  it ;  *  afterwards  did 
not  dare  to  attack  the  public  opinion.  *  Comus '  perhaps  his  finest 
piece.     Fuseli  thought  the  passage,  *  And  from  his  horrid  hair 


NOTES  FROM  HIS  COMMONPLACE  BOOK.         267 

shakes  pestilence  and  war '  worth  all '  Comus.'  ^  Warton  thought 
Johnson's  criticisms  would  soon  lose  all  weight.  Talked  with 
great  affection  and  good  humor  of  his  brother  (dead).  Thought 
the  philosophical  Dyer  wrote  '  Junius/  and  Mason  certainly  wrote 
the  '  Heroic  Epistle.'  ^    February,  1795. 

Collins,  says  Warton,  is  very  fine  in  '  Who  shall  wake  the 
Spartan  Fife?'  Armstrong  thought  little  of  him,  as  he  com- 
plained to  Warton.     Not  generally  admired. 

These  contemporary  criticisms  stand  in  curious  con- 
trast to  the  verdicts  of  posterity.  Fuseli's  preference 
of  the  account  of  Satan's  conflict  with  the  '  grisly  Terror ' 
to  the  whole  of  '  Comus '  is  characteristic  of  his  gloomy 
genius.  It  is  a  striking  instance  of  unconscious  self- 
revelation.  Warton's  criticism  on  Sheridan's  '  School  for 
Scandal,'  may  be  compared  with  that  of  Jekyll,  who,  on 
seeing  the  piece,  said,  '  Why  don't  all  these  people  leave 
off  talking  and  let  the  play  begin  ; '  and  both  are  instruc- 
tive instances  of  the  weakness  and  shallowness  of  con- 
temporary judgments.  Armstrong  thinking  little  of 
Collins  will  suggest  to  many  in  these  days  the  question 
who  Armstrong  was.  Millions  who  read  with  admira- 
tion Collins's  ^Ode  to  the  Passions'  have  never  heard 
of  the  author  of  '  The  Art  of  Preserving  Health,'  and 
would  probably  expect  to  find  under  that  title  a  medi- 
cal treatise  rather  than  a  didactic  poem.  Collins  is  better 
known  now  than  Warton,  and  is  more  generally  admired 
than  he  was  a  century  ago. 

1  Incens'd  with  indignation,  Satan  stood 
Unterrified,  and  like  a  comet  burn'd, 
That  fires  the  length  of  Ophiuchus  huge 
In  th'  arctic  sky,  and  from  his  horrid  hair 
Shakes  pestilence  and  war.  — Paradise  Lost^  Book  ii. 

2  '  An  Heroic  Epistle  to  Sir  William  Chambers,  Knight,  1773,  by 
Malcolm  Macgregor.'     It  was  afterwards  acknowledged  by  Mason. 


268  EAKLY  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Here  are  some  further  recollections  :  — 

Dr.  Parr.  —  I  heard  Horsley  at  St.  Margaret's  Church.  He 
saw  me  as  he  went  up  into  the  pulpit.  He  sat  down  and 
sweated.  I  darted  my  eye  at  him,  and  through  the  whole  of 
his  sermon  there  was  a  most  entertaining  contest  between  his 
fury  and  his  fears.  I  was  never  near  enough  to  Mr.  Pitt,  but 
I  always  dart  my  eye  at  him.  He  has  often  bullied  and  abused 
me,  but  he  could  never  look  me  in  the  face.  At  Nando's, 
19th  April,  '96. 

In  walking  up  Hampstead  Hill  I  was  solicited  by  a  beggar 
woman  with  some  fine  children  for  alms,  and  I  had  only  a 
bad  sixpence.  I  told  her  so ;  she  said  she  would  pass  it  in  the 
night.  What  should  I  have  done  ?  I  said  to  myself,  *  Society 
are  her  aggressors,'  and  I  gave  it  to  her.  Mr.  Smith  and  Mr. 
Barbauld  thought  I  was  wrong.  Dr.  Parr  thought  I  acted 
right,  and  said  the  man  who  could  have  done  otherwise  would 
have  kept  it  to  pass  it  himself.     19th  Octr.  '96. 

I  asked  Sir  George  Staunton  when  '  The  Embassy '  ^  would 
be  published.  He  did  not  seem  to  know,  and  therefore  I  would 
not  ask  him  again.  I  never  ask  a  great  man  a  question  which 
he  cannot  answer.  He  never  forgives  you  for  it.  —  Dr.  Gillies, 
24  Oc.  '96. 

*  God  bless  your  voice  !  *  said  an  old  blind  man  when  I  answered 
a  question  concerning  the  way  this  morning.     25  Octr.  '96. 

Some  other  entries  in  the  Commonplace  Book,  to 
which  no  date  is  attached,  but  which  evidently  belong  to 
a  comparatively  early  period  of  Eogers's  life,  may  be 
conveniently  added  here.  Some  of  them  are  curious 
as  showing  the  remuneration  which  was  given  to  some 
well-known  people  who  edited  or  contributed  to  the 
literary  periodicals  of  the  time. 

In  '  The  Adventurer '  A  was  Bonnel  Thornton,  Z  was  Warton 
according  to  Mr.  Ryland,  Dr.  Hawkesworth's  brother.     H.  had 

1  '  The  Authentic  Account  of  the  Embassy  of  Lord  Macartney  and 
Sir  George  Staunton  to  China  in  1792,'  was  published  in  1797.  It  was 
in  two  volumes  quarto. 


NOTES  FROM  HIS  COMMONPLACE  BOOK.        269 

£2  2s.  for  each '  Adventurer.'  Moore  had  £3  35.  for  each '  World.* 
A  coalition  was  attempted  by  Mr.  R.,  but  nothing  could  be  done 
but  printing  on  different  days.  Hill  had  7s.  6d.  for  each  '  In- 
spector.' Dr.  Hawkesworth  was  incapable  of  reading  the  mottoes 
prefixed  to  '  The  Adventurer ; '  they  were  chosen  for  him. 

In  an  anonymous  preface  to  the  edition  of  ^The 
Adventurer '  published  in  1823,  we  are  told  that  Dr. 
Eichard  Bathurst,  who  was  one  of  the  members  of 
Dr.  Johnson's  Ivy  Lane  Club,  is  said  to  have  written 
the  eight  papers  marked  '  A/  Dr.  Joseph  Warton  wrote 
twenty-four  papers,  and  Dr.  Johnson  is  known  to  have 
written  twenty-nine.  Eogers's  statement  about  Dr. 
Hawkesworth  is  rendered  probable  by  the  fact  that 
his  degree  was  a  Lambeth  one,  conferred  by  Archbishop 
Herring,  and  that  he  was  a  man  of  no  early  education. 
It  is  difficult  nowadays  to  understand  the  esteem  in 
which  '  The  Adventurer '  was  held.  Home  Tooke  told 
Kogers  that  he  could  never  forget  the  pleasure  he  felt 
in  retiring  to  read  it  at  the  age  of  seventeen ;  and  Dr. 
Burney  tells  us  that  in  his  day  it  was  in  every  one's 
library.  The  scale  of  remuneration  for  it  belongs  to  the 
day  of  small  things  for  periodical  literature. 

Here  are  other  items  bearing  on  the  same  subject :  — 

Griffiths  has  42s.  per  sheet  (printed)  for  the  authorship  of 
the  '  Monthly  Review.'  —  Dr.  Gillies. 

Millar  gave  £100  for  '  Joseph  Andrews,'  Fielding's  first 
novel.  —  Cadell. 

Warburton  wrote  the  preface  to  the  first  edition  of  *  Clarissa.' 

Warton  wrote  the  essay  '  On  the  Use  and  Abuse  of  Poetry,' 
quoted  in  '  Essay  on  Pope,'  vol.  i. 

Colman  read  the  '  School  for  Scandal '  before  it  was  acted  to 
Burke,  Reynolds,  Windham,  etc.  —  Windham. 

Sheridan  of  Pitt :  His  is  a  brain  that  never  works  but  when 
his  tongue  is  set  a-going,  like  some  machines  that  are  set  in 
motion  by  a  pendulum  or  some  such  thing. 


270  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Gray  made  NichoUs  promise  before  he  went  abroad  that  he 
would  not  call  upon  Voltaire.  —  Nicholls.  Lord  Hampden's 
father  did  the  same.  —  Ld.  H. 

When  Sir  C.  Wren's  plan  for  rebuilding  London  after  the  fire 
was  rejected  —  *  A  set  of  blockheads,'  he  exclaimed  ;  '  they  don't 
deserve  to  have  their  city  burnt.'  —  Priestley. 

Lord  Chesterfield  willing  away  £50,000  to  the  Dean  and 
Chapter  of  Westminster  (with  whom  he  had  had  a  lawsuit)  in 
case  his  nephew  could  be  proved  to  have  ever  been  in  Italy  or  at 
Newmarket. 

Garrick  and  Reynolds  entering  Rome  —  the  first  out  on  the 
coach-box,  the  last  unable  to  sit  up  or  look  out  of  the  window. 

When  Wilkes's  windows  were  broken  he  smiled  and  said: 
*Some  of  my  own  journeymen  set  up  for  themselves.' 

Lord  Chesterfield  in  person  compared  to  a  stunted  giant. 
When  driving  out  slowly  in  the  Park  in  his  old  age  said  he  was 
rehearsing. 

Mrs.  Warburton,  provoked  by  the  bishop's  silence,  once  threw 
a  book  at  his  head  — '  If  you  won't  answer  me  you  '11  answer  a 
book.* 

Dr.  Douglas  in  the  bishop's  palace  at  Salisbury  said  to  the 
archbishop  of  Narbonne :  *  Your  Grace  should  not  be  discouraged 
when  you  recollect  that  the  house  in  which  you  now  are,  was  for 
fourteen  years  a  public  inn '  [during  the  Commonwealth]. 

Dr.  Franklin  had  a  mirror  obliquely  fixed  near  his  window  by 
which  he  could  see  the  person  that  knocked  at  his  door,  and 
deny  himself  or  not  accordingly.  —  Este. 

Florence  is  so  pretty  a  town  it  should  be  only  seen  on  a  Sun- 
day. —  Un  Frangois. 

A  young  man  who  is  undazzled  and  unattracted  by  the  glitter 
of  life  is  either  above  or  below  the  common  level,  and  he  is 
generally  below  it.  Such  a  man  was  the  Duke  of  Hamilton. 
We  may  call  it  a  love  of  ease,  but  it  generally  shows  a  want  of 
energy.  —  Aikin, 


NOTES  FROM  HIS  COMMONPLACE  BOOK.        271 

A  regiment  in  France  had  a  great  regard  for  the  memory  of 
their  old  Colonel,  and  when  asked  why,  replied :  '  He  said, 
"  AUons,  mes  amis  !  "  the  present  says,  "  Allez,  mes  amis !  "  ' 

Barwell  lost  an  election  by  canvassing  with  his  gloves  on. 

Boswell  drunk  at  Lord  Falmouth's  in  Cornwall,  kicking  about 
his  bed  at  midnight,  swearing  at  the  house  in  which  he  said  there 
was  no  bed  to  lie  on,  and  no  wine  to  drink. 

Of  papers  the  old  duke  of  Cumberland  said :  '  D — n  them, 
they  breed  I  * 

When  Sheridan  is  writing  he  requires  a  great  many  lights. 
— Spencer. 

I  will  make  you  a  Baronet.  Baron,  if  you  please.  The  net  at 
the  end  is  a  net  only  to  catch  fools  with. 

His  forte  was  fancy  —  his  foible  was  ignorance.  —  Burke  on 
Lord  Chatham.     Grattan. 

The  following  appear  to  be  Kogers's  own  reflections ; 
some  of  them  recur  in  his  poems,  and  some  in  letters  to 
Ms  friends  :  — 

Plant  nettles  on  the  grave  of  a  satirist  —  stinging  nettles. 

We  cannot  compare  places,  we  only  compare  impressions. 
'T  is  thus  we  deceive  ourselves. 

Mountains,  like  fine  ladies,  are  subject  to  vapors. 

Close  to  the  earth  there  is  a  refreshing  fragrance  —  lost  when 
you  elevate  yourself.     Remark  in  a  clover  field. 

More  ennui  in  society  than  out  of  it. 

Men  of  fashion  are  mannerists,  and  all  manner  is  bad ;  a  nat- 
ural character,  manners  ever  varying  with  the  thoughts  and 
feelings,  how  superior  to  that  uniform  and  monotonous  thing 
called  high  breeding ! 

Women  are  ever  ready  to  make  confidants  of  each  other  in 
everything  but  love. 


272  EAELY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Poets  the  best  prose  writers :  Shakspeare,  Cowley,  Milton, 
Dryden,  Pope,  Gray,  and  Addison.  Burke  and  Rousseau  began 
with  poetry,  as  did  also  Voltaire. 

The  heart,  like  a  musical  instrument,  has  a  thousand  rich 
melodies,  which  may  slumber  there  forever  if  not  called  forth 
by  the  various  offices  and  duties  of  social  and  domestic  life ; 
each  of  which  excites  its  peculiar  set  of  feelings  and  sympathies. 

The  soul  of  music  slumbers  in  the  shell 

Till  waked  to  rapture  by  the  master's  spell ; 

And  thy  young  heart,  when  rightly  touched,  shall  pour 

A  thousand  melodies  unheard  before. 

A  few  items  of  chat,  attributed  to  Eichard  Sharp 
will  appropriately  conclude  the  extracts  from  the  Com- 
monplace Book  :  — 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  told  Sharp  that  he  never  painted  a 
picture,  or  part  of  a  picture,  well  till  he  had  done  it  several 
times. 

Hoppner  drew  the  waterfall  at  Melincourt,  near  Neath,  and 
slept  at  a  miller's  near  the  spot.  At  night  through  a  crevice  of 
his  chamber  he  saw  his  host  breaking  off  a  piece  of  his  chalk, 
which  he  had  left  with  his  sketch  below,  and  slyly  treasuring  it  up 
in  his  bureau. 

Terror  is  a  powerful  engine,  but  when  overstrained  is  the 
weakest  of  all.  Inspire  a  man  with  fear  and  you  are  his  master  ; 
with  despair,  and  he  is  yours. 

A  nation  in  a  state  of  despotism  is  like  a  giant  asleep,  "with  his 
arms  intrusted  to  a  dwarf. 

In  the  spring  of  1795  Dr.  Parr  called  public  atten- 
tion to  a  misstatement  of  Boswell's  as  to  the  interview 
which  Dr.  Johnson  and  Dr.  Priestley  had  with  each 
other  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Paradise.  ^  Bos  well  in  a 
note  to  a  new  edition  of  his  third  volume  declared  his 
firm  belief  that  the  two  men  never  met.     He  based  this 

1  Mr.  Paradise  was  a  member  of  Johnson's  evening  club  at  the 
*  Essex  Head.' 


DR.  JOHNSON  AND  DR.  PRIESTLEY.  273 

conviction  on  two  circumstances  :  firstly,  that  his  ^  illus- 
trious friend  was  particularly  resolute  in  not  giving 
countenance  to  men  whose  writings  he  considered  as 
pernicious  to  society;'  and  secondly,  that  when  one' 
day  at  Oxford  Dr.  Price  came  into  a  room  where  John- 
son was,  Johnson  instantly  left  the  room.  Dr.  Parr 
thereupon  wrote  to  Dr.  E.  Johnstone  of  Birmingham, 
where  in  1790  he  had  heard  Priestley  speak  of  the  inter- 
view, and  Dr.  Johnstone  at  once  wrote  to  say  that  he 
remembered  Dr.  Priestley's  statement  that  he  met  John- 
son under  the  idea  that  Johnson  had  sought  the  interview 
and  that  it  was  mutually  satisfactory.  Mr.  Bearer  oft 
wrote  from  Francis  Street  that  he  had  only  in  April 
or  May,  1794,  heard  Dr.  Priestley  remind  Mr.  Paradise 
of  the  particular  civility  with  which  Dr.  Johnson  had 
behaved  towards  him  when  they  dined  together  at 
Mr.  Paradise's  house.  Mr.  Bearcroft  adds  that  '  having 
mentioned  the  subject  this  afternoon  to  Mr.  Paradise, 
he  told  me  that,  though  he  did  not  clearly  recollect 
the  motive  by  which  he  had  been  induced  to  bring  Dr. 
Johnson  and  Dr.  Priestley  together,  he  very  well  remem- 
bered Dr.  Johnson  having  been  previously  informed  that 
Dr.  Priestley  would  be  one  of  the  company,  and  his  hav- 
ing manifested  great  civility  to  the  latter  on  that  occa- 
sion.' To  this  testimony  Eogers  was  able  to  add  his  own 
in  the  following  letter  — 

S.  Bogers  to  Br.  Parr, 

*Newington  Green,  February  23, 1795. 
*  Dear  Sir,  —  I  can  answer  your  several  questions  dis- 
tinctly. I  heard  of  the  interview  between  Dr.  Johnson 
and  Dr.  Priestley  from  Dr.  Priestley  himself.  I  have 
heard  it  mentioned  more  than  once.  I  understood  that 
it  was  not  solicited  by  Dr.  Priestley,  and  that  if  any 
overture  was  made  for  that  purpose  it  came  from  Dr. 

18 


274  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Johnson.  I  found  that  Dr.  Priestley  thought  Dr.  John- 
son's behavior  such  as  it  ought  to  have  been  from  one 
man  of  letters  to  another.     Johnson  was  very  civil. 

^I  hope  that  I  have  written  satisfactorily,  and  am 
happy  in  the  opportunity  which  you  have  given  me  of 
assuring  you  with  what  respect 

'  I  am,  dear  Sir, 

'  Your  most  obedient  servant, 

*  Samuel  Eogers.' 

There  were  various  signs  in  the  periodicals  of  1794, 
1795,  and  1796  of  the  esteem  in  .which  the  author  of 
'The  Pleasures  of  Memory'  was  already  held  by  his 
literary  contemporaries.  A  poem  on  his  poem  appeared 
in  the  '  European  Magazine,'  which  contained  the  lines  — 

'  With  more  attractive  charm  the  verse  appears 
Whose  magic  power  calls  back  our  fleeting  years, 
And  binds  with  Memory's  tenacious  chain 
The  airy  forms  of  pleasure  and  of  pain.* 

In  another  of  the  magazines  appeared  a  poem  in  Spen- 
serian language  'on  his  ordering  a  great-coat  called  a 
Spenser.'     One  of  the  verses  ran  — 

*  O  precious  Impe  of  Fame,  Sam  Rogers  higJity 

Who  chauntest  Memorie  in  dulcett  straine, 
Filling  our  eares  and  harts  with  such  delight 

Entraunced  we  live  past  pleasaunce  o'er  againe ; 
This  amplest  theme,  by  others  minc'd  in  vaine, 

Was  by  the  sacred  sisters  nyne  withheld, 
Immortal  guerdon  for  thy  browes  to  gaine. 

Certes  old  Humber's  Bard,  and  he  who  dwel'd 
Whylome  in  daintie  Leasowes,  are  by  thee  excel'd.' 

The  last  references  are  to  Mason's  and  Shenstone's 
Odes  to  Memory.  A  more  amusing  reference  to  him 
and  to  a  number  of  his  friends  is  contained  in  a  short 


POETICAT.  PERSONALITIES.  275 

poem  entitled  '  My  Club/  which  appeared  in  the  '  Euro- 
pean Magazine '  in  July,  1795  :  — 

'  With  M[arsden]  I  would  trust  my  Ufe, 
With  L[awrence]  all  my  civil  strife, 
And  steal  him  from  Justinian's  code 
To  make  him  sport  another  ode ; 
With  B  .  .  .  .  write  in  purest  Latin 
From  classic  Celsus  to  Guy  Patin ; 
From  B  .  .  .  .  catch  some  emendation 
Of  Aristotle  or  of  Tatian. 
Impromptu  P[arsons]  shall  rehearse 
With  ready  pen  in  easy  verse, 
While  R[ennell]  tells  how  Agamemnon, 
Diomede  and  Ajax  Telamon, 
Forced  out  from  Holland  and  from  Flanders 
The  Dutch  and  English  Alexanders. 
S[harp],  too,  the  subtle  and  acute. 
Shall  quickly  settle  the  dispute, 
And  mightiest  Stagirites  among. 
Leave  his  opponents  in  the  wrong. 
Meek  R[ogers],  whom  the  Muses  love, 
Unites  the  serpent  and  the  dove ; 
In  business,  as  in  rhyming  terse, 
Can  talk  of  agio  or  of  verse. 
S[eward],  of  anecdotes  a  storehouse, 
Lays  gratis  all  he  hears  before  us, 
And  tells  the  whole  long  ere  't  is  seen 
In  th'  "  European  M  agazine  ;  " 
B[erdmore],  no  common  politician. 
At  once  is  chymist  and  physician  ; 
And  of  the  Roman  as  was  said. 
He  knows  his  art  but  not  his  trade. 
R.  C  .  .  .  ,  whose  active  mind  ne'er  still  is, 
Loves  Greek,  we  're  sure,  but  not  like  G[illies]  ; 
Tom  Warton,  merry  wight  —  ah,  no  I 
Death  envied  us,  but  left  us  Jo.' 

Another  very  satisfactory  sign  of  the  recognized  place 
he  had  taken  in  literature  was  given  in  the  reception 


276  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

accorded  by  the  critics  to  the  Kev.  R.  Polwhele's  dull 
poem  called  ^The  Influence  of  Local  Attachment  with. 
Respect  to  Home/  So  much  was  said  by  the  reviewers 
of  the  similarity  of  this  poem  in  some  parts  to  the  beau- 
tiful poem,  as  they  all  called  it,  '  The  Pleasures  of  Mem- 
ory,' that  Mr.  Polwhele  was  obliged  to  come  forward 
with  a  labored  vindication.  His  apology  was  in  the 
form  of  a  tu  quoque.  He  had  been  accused  of  copying 
some  of  Rogers's  notes  verbatim,  and  he  admitted  that 
lie  had  written  his  own  notes  hastily  with  Rogers's  before 
him.  But  as  to  plagiarism,  had  not  Rogers  borrowed  from 
him  ?  He  had  written  an  '  Epistle  to  a  College  Friend,' 
which  he  was  almost  inclined  to  consider  as  the  proto- 
type of  the  first  part  of  'The  Pleasures  of  Memory.' 
Only  one  of  his  comparisons  need  be  given.  He  had 
written  in  bis  '  Epistle  to  a  College  Friend '  — 

*  While  yet  't  is  mine  to  trace  the  feeling  hour, 
And  win  young  Fancy  from  the  Muse's  bower 
Ere  pressing  cares,  too  numerous,  intervene 
To  disenchant  the  bosom-soothing  scene, 
Come,  nor  too  soon,  alas!  to  memory  fade, 
Ye  views  fast  fainting  into  sombre  shade  !  * 

The  passage  with  which  Polwhele  compares  this — which 
he  intimates  was  suggested  by  it  —  is  this :  speaking  of 
childhood's  loved  group  revisiting  every  scene,  '  the  tan- 
gled wood-walk  and  the  tufted  green,'  Rogers  proceeds  — 

*  Indulgent  Memory  wakes,  and  lo,  they  live  ! 
Clothed  with  far  softer  hues  than  Light  can  give. 
Thou  first,  best  friend  that  Heaven  assigns  below, 
To  soothe  and  sweeten  all  the  cares  we  know ; 
Whose  glad  suggestions  still  each  vain  alarm 
When  Nature  fades  and  life  forgets  to  charm ; 
Thee  would  the  Muse  invoke !  to  thee  belong 
The  sage's  precept  and  the  poet's  song. 
What  softened  views  thy  magic  glass  reveals, 
When  o'er  the  landscape  Time's  meek  twilight  steals ! ' 


CHARGE  OF  PLAGIARISM.  277 

The  comparison  of  these  passages  —  and  they  are  put 
in  juxtaposition  by  Mr.  Polwhele  himself  —  not  only 
shows  the  ridiculous  nature  of  his  suggestion  of  pla- 
giarism, but  conclusively  and  sufficiently  exhibits  the 
immense  superiority  of  Eogers's  poem  to  the  boasted 
productions  of  the  poetasters  of  the  time. 


CHAPTEE  X. 

State  of  the  Country  in  1795-96.  —  Reaction  in  Parliament.  —  "West- 
minster Election,  1796.  —  Dr.  Moore  and  his  sons.  —  Rogers's 
Domestic  Relations.  —  Correspondence  with  R.  Sharp.  —  Brighton 
in  1797.  —  Lady  Jersey.  —  A  Romance  without  a  denouement.  — 
Brighton  in  1798.  — Sarah  Rogers. 

There  are  but  few  signs  at  this  period  of  that  lively 
interest  in  public  affairs  which  characterized  Eogers 
in  earlier  days.  Many  of  his  first  friends  were  gone. 
Dr.  Price  was  dead ;  Dr.  Priestley  was  in  exile  ;  William 
Stone  had  only  lately  been  acquitted  on  a  charge  of  high 
treason  for  which  he  had  lain  two  years  in  Newgate 
untried ;  Home  Tooke  was  cultivating  his  garden  at 
Wimbledon,  after  his  defeat  in  the  Westminster  elec- 
tion ;  and  Fox,  though  he  had  headed  the  poll  in  the 
same  election,  was  in  a  state  of  discouragement  at  the 
gloomy  aspect  of  public  affairs ;  Sheridan  was  enjoying 
the  temporary  relief  from  pecuniary  troubles  which  his 
new  wife's  five  thousand  pounds  had  given  him  ;  and 
Sharp,  Mackintosh,  and  others  of  his  political  friends 
and  acquaintances  were  keeping  comparatively  quiet  in 
the  vain  hope  of  better  days.  In  the  autumn  of  1795 
there  had  been  a  great  agitation  in  the  coijntry  for 
reform  in  Parliament  and  peace  with  France.  This 
agitation  had  been  purely  political,  but  there  had  gone 
on  side  by  side  with  it  a  social  movement  which  had 
serious  results.  There  was  almost  a  famine  in  the  land, 
and  the  utmost  distress  prevailed  among  the  laboring 
classes.     The  papers  contained  frequent  reports  of  death 


PUBLIC  AFFAIRS  IN  1795-96.  279 

by  starvation,  and  the  populace,  with  just  instinct,  re- 
garded the  war  as  the  chief  cause  of  their  sufferings. 
There  had  been  a  great  meeting  on  Copenhagen  Fields 
on  the  26th  of  October,  1795,  when  a  remonstrance  to 
the  king  had  been  resolved  on,  complaining  of  the 
neglect  and  contempt  his  ministers  had  shown  for  an 
address  presented  to  them  some  time  before.  On  the 
29th  an  unparalleled  multitude,  estimated  at  two  hundred 
thousand,  ten  times  as  great,  it  was  said,  as  had  ever 
been  seen  before,  assembled  to  see  the  king  go  to  the 
House  of  Lords  to  open  Parliament,  which  had  been 
called  together  earlier  than  usual  in  consequence  of  the 
prevailing  distress.  While  waiting  for  the  king  the 
crowd  hissed  Lord  Chatham  and  the  Duke  of  Gloucester 
as  they  passed,  hooted  the  Duke  of  Portland,  and  made 
hostile  demonstrations  against  other  well-known  mem- 
bers of  the  House  of  Lords.  When  the  king's  carriage 
appeared  a  storm  of  hisses  and  groans  broke  forth,  min- 
gled with  loud  cries  of  '  Bread,  bread ! '  '  Peace,  peace  ! ' 
and  '  Down  with  Pitt ! '  Opposite  the  Ordnance  Office  a 
stone  struck  one  of  the  windows  of  the  state  carriage  and 
broke  it,  and  the  king  thought  he  had  been  fired  at. 
When  the  king  arrived  at  the  House  of  Lords  he  ex- 
claimed to  the  Lord  Chancellor  :  <  My  Lord,  I  have  been 
shot  at.'  Later  in  the  afternoon  Lord  Westmoreland 
informed  the  House  of  Lords  that  the  king  had  been 
treated  with  insult  and  outrage  by  the  mob,  and  that  the 
glass  of  the  carriage  had  been  broken  by  a  shot  fired 
from  an  air-gun  from  the  bow  window  of  a  house  adjoin- 
ing the  Ordnance  Office,  with  the  object  of  assassinating 
his  majesty. 

These  events  had  most  painful  results.  The  fears  of 
the  sovereign  and  his  advisers  had  magnified  a  bread  riot 
into  a  rebellion,  as  Louis  XVI.  had  mistaken  a  revolution 
for  an  emeAite.  The  meeting  in  Copenhagen  Fields  on 
Monday  was  associated  with  the  riot  of  the  following 


280  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Thursday,  and  proclamations  were  issued  offering  re- 
wards for  the  apprehension  of  the  ringleaders  of  the  riot, 
and  urging  well-affected  people  to  assist  in  putting  down 
such  gatherings  as  that  of  Monday,  and  in  preventing  the 
dissemination  of  ^seditious  writings.'  The  Marquis  of 
Lansdowue  courageously  accused  the  Ministry  of  intend- 
ing to  seize  the  opportunity  to  work  on  the  fears  of  the 
public  in  order  to  get  repressive  laws  passed,  and  to  in- 
crease their  own  power  at  the  expense  of  freedom.  Two 
bills  were  brought  in  and  passed,  one  entitled  *  An  Act 
for  the  safety  and  preservation  of  his  majesty's  person 
and  government  against  treasonable  and  seditious  prac- 
tices and  attempts  ; '  and  the  other  ^  for  the  more  effect- 
ually preventing  seditious  meetings  and  assemblies.'  The 
Whig  leaders  protested  against  these  Acts,  but  did  not 
even  succeed  in  shortening  their  duration,  which  extended 
in  the  first  case  to  the  whole  life  of  the  king,  and  in  the 
second  to  three  years.  The  Duke  of  Norfolk  declared 
that  the  family  of  Brunswick  owed  its  possession  of  the 
throne  to  the  principle  of  resistance ;  the  Duke  of  Bed- 
ford said  the  measures  constituted  a  direct  attack  on 
the  liberty  of  Englishmen ;  and  Mr.  Fox  maintained  that 
the  bills  totally  annihilated  liberty.  They  were  passed, 
however,  and  they  were  not  allowed  to  remain  as  a  dead 
letter  on  the  statute-book.  The  first  result  was  to  render 
the  Government  intensely  unpopular,  and  the  second  was 
to  discourage  all  Liberal  political  action  and  movement. 
To  these  two  measures,  and  to  the  prosecutions  which 
followed  on  them,  we  may  attribute  the  temporary  sus- 
pension of  political  action  on  the  part  of  Rogers  and  his 
friends,  though  the  complete  discontinuation  of  his 
diary,  so  far  as  political  persons  and  movements  are  con- 
cerned, dates  from  a  time  just  previous  to  the  arrest  of 
his  friend  William  Stone  on  the  charge  of  high  treason, 
in  May,  1794. 

His  *  Recollections  of  Fox '  in  the  volume  edited  by 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  FOX.  281 

Mr.  William  Sharpe  begin  with  a  dinner  at  Mr.  William 
Smith's  on  the  19th  of  March,  1796.  There  was  a  great 
gathering  of  Whigs  :  Tierney,  Courtenay,  Sir  Francis 
Baring,  Dr.  Aikin,  Mackintosh,  Sir  Philip  Erancis,  and 
Dr.  Parr,  but  the  talk  seems  to  have  been  of  everything 
but  politics.  At  Sergeant  Heywood's  on  the  10th  of 
December,  Lord  Derby,  Lord  Stanley,  Lord  Lauderdale, 
Lambton,  Aikin,  Smith,  and  Brogden  were  present  with 
Pox,  and  still  the  talk  seems  to  have  been  chiefly  literary. 
It  is  significant,  however,  that  what  Pox  is  reported  by 
Rogers  to  have  said  bearing  on  the  politics  of  the  time 
was  pitched  in  a  key  of  the  most  profound  despondency. 
*I  always  say,  and  always  think,'  said  Pox  to  Rogers, 
*that  of  all  the  countries  in  Europe,  England  will  be 
the  last  to  be  free.  Russia  will  be  free  before  England.' 
A  bad  prophecy,  but  a  good  indication  of  the  feeling  of 
the  time.  On  the  same  evening  Lord  Lauderdale  said  : 
<  I  wish  I  was  Member  for  Westminster.'  *  And  I  wish 
I  was  a  Scotch  Peer,'  answered  Pox.  *  Why  so  ? '  he 
was  asked.  *I  should  then  be  disqualified,'  replied 
Pox.  This  was  said  just  six  months  after  his  trium- 
phant return  for  Westminster  at  the  head  of  the  poll. 
That  election  was  the  last  in  which  Rogers  gave  a 
vote  for  two-and-twenty  years ;  and  he  gave  it  not  only 
on  the  Whig  but  on  what  may  be  described  as  the 
Radical  side.^  Rogers  voted  for  Home  Tooke,  who 
was  seconded  on  the  hustings  by  his  brother-in-law, 
Sutton  Sharpe.  Rogers  also  voted  for  Mr.  Pox.  In  an 
edition  of  the  speeches  delivered  by  Home  Tooke  at 
this  election,  which  had  come  into  Rogers's  hands,  there 
is  a  note  in  Home  Tooke's  handwriting  giving  the 
number  of  days  he  had  been  in  prison.  I  copy  it  pre- 
cisely as  it  stands  ;  — 

1  The  poll  closed  on  Monday  the  13th  of  June,  the  fifteenth  day  of 
the  polling,  and  the  numbers  were:  Fox  6,160;  Sir  Alan  Gardner  4,814 ; 
Home  Tooke  2,819. 


282 


EARLY 

LIFE  OF  SAMUEL 

ROGERS. 

1774 

H.  of  Commons 

2  days 

1777-1778 

K.'s  Bench 

336     « 

1794 

Privy  Council 

3     " 

<( 

Tower 

148     « 

« 

Newgate 

30     " 

In  Prison     .     .     519  days 

There  is  a  curious  reckoning,  too,  in  Home  Tooke's 
writing,  which  shows  that  he  had  spoken  from  three  and 
a  half  to  four  hours  during  the  fifteen  days,  and  that  he 
had  made  two  hundred  and  twenty-seven  points  against 
the  government,  or  about  one  point  every  minute.  The 
pamphlet  further  contains  the  speech  made  by  Mr.  Fox 
to  the  electors  at  the  close  of  the  poll  on  Saturday  the 
11th  of  June,  the  fourteenth  day  of  the  voting.  Mr.  Fox 
spoke  quite  as  strongly  as  Home  Tooke.  *  The  law  that 
was  passed  in  the  last  session  of  Parliament,'  said  Fox, 
*has  made  it  impossible  for  more  than  fifty  persons  to 
meet  without  being  subject  to  the  interference  of  a  mag- 
istrate. If  you  take  my  advice  the  law  will  not  disturb 
your  meeting.  Meet!  Meet!  Act  in  obedience  to  the 
law,  which  does  not  forbid  your  meeting,  it  only  empow- 
ers the  magistrate  to  commit  you  if  you  act  improperly. 
Meet,  then,  I  say ;  conduct  yourselves  with  propriety,  and 
see  whether  any  one  will  dare  to  oppose  you.'  This 
advice  was  received  with  great  cheering.  Mr.  Fox  con- 
cluded by  saying :  '  Gentlemen,  I  have  spoken  plainly 
and  openly  to  you,  and  I  will  conclude  by  repeating  that 
in  my  conscience  I  believe  that  [the  character  of  the] 
Government  has  been  by  none  exaggerated.  A  more 
detestable  one  never  existed  in  British  history ;  and  not 
to  detain  you  any  longer  I  will  sum  up  its  character  in 
two  words.  This  Government  has  destroyed  more  human 
beings  in  its  foreign  wars  than  Louis  XIV.,  and  at- 
tempted the  lives  of  more  innocent  men  at  home  than 
Henry  VIII.'      In  these  words  Fox  expressed  a  feeling 


GLOOMY  POLITICS.  283 

which  Eogers  and  his  friends  fully  shared,  and  to  which 
Kogers  frequently  gave  expression  in  later  and  happier 
times. 

The  Westminster  election  probably  left  some  soreness 
behind  it,  for  at  one  of  William  Smith's  dinner  parties, 
at  which  Eogers  was  present  with  Fox  and  Tooke,  he 
noticed,  with  much  pain,  that  Fox  tried  to  ignore  Tooke. 
At  another  of  these  dinners,  Tierney  and  others  were 
speaking  disparagingly  of  Pitt,  and  declaring  that  he 
was  not  in  earnest  about  the  slave-trade,  when  Fox 
rebuked  them.  Wilberforce  had  just  at  this  time 
brought  himself  into  much  unpopularity  by  voting  for 
the  ministerial  measures  for  the  suspension  of  freedom. 
The  Liberals  were  profoundly  depressed.  They  seemed 
conscious  that  they  were  just  entering  on  their  long 
journey  through  the  wilderness.  There  was  none  of  the 
buoyant  confidence  which  distinguished  them  in  the 
halcyon  days  when  the  French  Ee volution  was  young. 
The  shadow  of  the  Terror  had  already  rolled  away  from 
France,  but  it  had  settled  down  on  England. 

Unpopular  as  the  war  was,  it  necessarily  created  an 
interest  of  its  own.  Dr.  Moore,  for  example,  was  one  of 
its  opponents,  but  he  naturally  felt,  as  every  patriotic 
man  feels,  a  certain  pride  in  the  successes  of  his  country- 
men, even  when  the  country  is  in  the  wrong.  This 
feeling  spread.  Dislike  of  a  struggle  which  multitudes 
of  the  best  Englishmen  regarded  as  needless  and  wicked, 
conflicted  in  the  public  mind  with  pride  in  their  country's 
prowess,  and  that  pride  eventually  came  uppermost. 
Dr.  Moore  had  personal  and  family  interests  in  the  war. 
He  had  two  heroic  sons  actively  engaged,  each  destined 
to  win  honors,  and  one  immortal  fame.  In  the  following 
letter  he  refers  both  to  his  own  literary  work,  and  to  the 
success  of  one  of  his  sons. 


284  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Br,  Moore  to  S.  Bogers. 

*  Monday. 

'My  dear  Kogers, —  I  will  be  happy  to  accompany 
you  to  Mr.  Smith's  on  the  first  Monday  in  Christmas, 
provided  my  son  Graham  does  not  come  to  town  at  that 
time.  You  will  see  by  last  night's  "  Gazette  "  that  he  has 
brought  a  fine  French  corvette  to  Spithead.  Mrs.  Moore 
and.  I  have  scarcely  had  a  fortnight  of  him  since  the  war. 
He  is  the  most  delightful  fellow  alive,  and  I  cannot  lose  a 
day  of  him,  but  I  will  know  when  he  is  to  come  and  inform 
you.   The  "  Melampus  "  needs  repair. 

'  I  am  glad  you  like  Edward.  I  am  told  he  is  thought 
too  much  of  a  common  man  for  a  hero.  Though  I  tried 
to  make  him  something  of  a  man  of  this  world  and  not 
quite  an  ideal  being,  yet  I  heartily  wish  that  heroes 
as  well  as  common  men  were  more  like  him.  I  am  not 
much  of  a  misanthrope,  but  I  have  a  notion  that  all  men 
of  humanity  are  a  little  so.  That  you  should  think  all 
Edward's  conduct  very  natural  does  not  surprise  me; 
that  some  who  rank  him  with  common  men  should  think 
so,  does. 

*  Adieu! 

'J.  Moore. 

'  Do  you  ever  see  my  Charles  ? ' 

Edward  was  the  hero  of  Dr.  Moore's  second  novel, 
which  Mrs.  Barbauld  regards  as  much  inferior  to  ^Zel- 
uco'  but  as  having  many  amusing  conversation  pieces. 
Charles  was  the  youngest  of  his  five  sons.  Graham  was 
the  third.  He  was  a  year  younger  than  Eogers,  had 
joined  the  navy  in  1777,  had  been  made  a  post-captain 
in  1794,  and  in  1795  had  succeeded  Sir  Eichard  Strachan 
in  the  '  Melampus.'  In  this  vessel  he  served  for  five  years 
with  great  distinction,  and  then  came  home  invalided 
to  his  father's  house,  where  the  Peace  of  Amiens  found 


FAMILY  LETTERS.  285 

him.  When  the  war  broke  out  again  he  was  appointed 
to  the  *  Indefatigable/  and  after  twelve  years  of  active 
service  was  made  a  K.C.B.  Other  deserved  honors 
followed,  and  in  1837  he  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of 
admiral.  He  died  at  Chobham,  in  November,  1843. 
A  brief  memoir  of  him  was  written  in  1844,  by  Major- 
General  Sir  Eobert  Gardiner. 

The  kind  of  life  Eogers  was  living  at  this  period 
when  his  greatness  was  ripening  is  shown  in  some 
family  letters.  The  first  is  from  his  sister  Sarah.  She 
was  visiting  Mrs.  Eogers  at  Whitehall  near  Stourbridge, 
and  wrote  to  him  on  the  28th  of  November,  1796  :  — 

*  Here  I  am  at  such  a  distance  from  all  of  you  that  I 
seem  quite  in  another  world,  and  want  very  much  to 
know  what  you  are  doing  in  yours.  .  .  .  Your  time  is,  I 
suppose,  entirely  taken  up  with  engagements,  attending 
clubs,  reading  papers  of  which  I  have  heard,  etc.,  while 
I  have  little  to  do  but  to  watch  for  the  time  of  the  post 
coming  in  that  I  may  hear  a  little  of  what  you  are 
about.  .  .  .  Wherever  I  go  I  hear  a  great  deal  about  you. 
We  drank  tea  a  few  nights  ago  at  "The  Hill."  Miss 
Hopkins  was  there ;  she  looked  very  handsome,  and  if 
you  had  heard  her  conversation,  you  would  have  thought 
her  still  more  so.  But  I  shall  make  you  too  vain  if  I  go 
on  and  repeat  to  you  what  she  said ;  for  though  you  are 
sufficiently  used  to  compliments,  yet,  coming  from  the 
mouth  of  so  pretty  a  woman,  I  don't  know  what  the 
effect  might  be.' 

In  a  letter  from  Nottingham  Place  on  the  10th  of 
December,  1796,  Mrs.  Sharpe  tells  her  sister  Sarah : 

*  On  Sunday  Sam  called,  and  with  him  Mr.  Hoppner, 
who  took  Mr.  Sharpe  to  see  a  collection  of  pictures  of  a 
Mr.  des  Enfans,^  where  there  were  some  fine  ones.  .  .  . 

1  This  is  the  collection  which  now  forms  the  Dulwich  Gallery. 


286  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

On  Thursday  Sam  engaged  to  dine  here,  so  Mr.  Sharps 
got  some  other  gentlemen,  Mr.  Tuffin,  Mr.  Cline,  Mr.  S. 
Boddington,  W.  Maltby,  and  Stothard.  .  .  .  Yesterday 
Mr.  Sharpe  dined  at  Mr.  Cline's,  where  were  Home  Tooke 
and  a  party  of  gentlemen.  He  was  not  home  till  past 
twelve,  so  late  are  parties  now/ 

The  men  named  in  this  letter  were  all  celebrities  in 
their  time.  Mr.  Tuffin  is  now  forgotten,  but  for  many 
years  he  was  one  of  the  liveliest  and  most  interesting 
talkers  of  a  circle  of  men  who  made  conversation  a  study 
and  an  art.  An  octogenarian  friend  of  mine  still  re- 
members his  white  head  and  his  amusing  talk,  and  the 
story  he  told  that  his  hair  had  turned  white  in  a  single 
night  in  which  he  had  been  shut  up  by  accident  in  one 
of  the  vaults  at  Windsor.  Hoppner  was  the  well-known 
artist  already  mentioned  in  an  extract  from  Rogers's  Com- 
monplace Book;  Cline  was  the  celebrated  surgeon  who 
afterwards  tapped  Fox  for  the  dropsy,  and  was  consulted 
by  Windham  respecting  the  tumor  which  cost  that  states- 
man his  life.  Of  the  others  it  is  needless  to  speak. 
Sutton  Sharpe  had  married  Eogers's  sister  Maria  in  1795, 
and  the  result  of  this  closer  connection  between  him 
and  Eogers  was,  as  I  have  already  said,  that  Kogers  was 
brought  into  more  frequent  and  familiar  intercourse  with 
the  chief  artists  of  the  time.  It  was  this  intercourse, 
together  with  Sutton  Sharpe's  own  direct  instructions 
and  influence,  which  gave  Eogers  the  knowledge  of  art 
which  made  him  eventually  the  chief  authority  of  his 
time  on  questions  of  taste. 

These  letters  show,  not  only  what  his  private  and 
family  life  was  at  this  period,  but  the  very  affectionate 
relations  he  maintained  with  the  members  of  his  family. 
These  relations  are  further  illustrated  by  a  letter  to  his 
sister  Sarah :  — 


LETTER  TO  HIS  SISTER  SARAH.  287 

Samuel  Bogers  to  Sarah  Rogers, 

'Temple,  10  March,  1797. 

'  My  dear  Sarah,  —  Surely  the  wildest  dream  of  Mad 
Bess  herself  must  have  been  dull  and  insipid  when  com- 
pared to  what  is  passing  in  this  planet  of  ours !  At 
present  things  are  indeed  a  little  too  interesting,  and  I 
am  not  yet  half  recovered  from  the  stunning  blow  we 
received  last  week.  I  hint  this  by  way  of  apology ;  you 
will  shake  your  head  at  it  and  pronounce  it  a  lame  one, 
but  I  have  been  really  so  harassed  for  the  last  month  or 
two  that  I  have  even  wanted  spirits  for  a  pun.  Of  you, 
however,  I  often  think,  and  again  and  again  have  I 
begun  an  invocation  to  your  friendly  but  fugitive  spirit 
(when  will  you  take  your  flight  to  us  ?)  but  in  vain.  A 
thousand  cares  and  follies  have  interposed  to  prevent 
me.  But  how  shall  I  answer  you  in  your  own  style  ? 
Eeally,  child,  you  have  an  admirable  way  of  charming 
people  out  of  their  senses  ;  you  must  surely  have  dipped 
your  pen,  not  into  ink,  but  into  some  sweet  intoxicating 
spirit,  prepared  no  doubt  (for  they  abound  in  it)  from 
the  old  family  receipt  book  at  Cheadle.  But  what  are 
you  about?  Are  you  indoctrinating  yourself  into  the 
sublime  mysteries  of  a  cotton  mill  ?  Or,  like  Bonaparte's 
cannon,  are  you  dealing  havoc  among  the  beaux  of  the 
north  ?  Some  sylph  or  sylphid  has  indeed  whispered 
strange  things  j  what  she  said  I  dare  not  say,  but  her 
voice  was  so  musical  that  we  "  think  her  still  speaking, 
still  stand  fixed  to  hear." 

*  This  morning  I  had  a  visitor  to  breakfast  with  me, 
a  noble  stranger  whom  I  long  to  introduce  to  your 
acquaintance.  Elegant,  animated,  and  modest,  with  a 
look  of  sentiment,  a  fine  form,  and  the  coiffure  grec,  in 
short,  another  Imogene,  —  the  dear  brother  of  Clementina, 
and  of  as  noble  a  family,  his  father  being  Doge  of 
Genoa.    What  do  you  say  ?  and  yet  I  should  not  like 


288  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

to  lose  you  neither.  But  do  answer,  child :  would  you 
like  to  sport  a  veil  and  a  train,  and  receive  incense  as 
her  Serenissima  the  Marchesa  Brignola  among  tables  of 
massive  gold  and  curtains  of  crimson  velvet  ?  In  your 
next  pray  say  yes  or  no.  I  cannot  finish  this  subject 
without  hinting  that  he  talks  of  visiting  Manchester. 
Perhaps  he  may  suit  somebody's  taste  at  Cheadle.  With 
regard  to  our  domestic  annals  you  are  in  correspondence 
with  those  who  are  far  better  qualified  than  I  am  to  in- 
form you  on  that  subject.  The  petites  histoires  of  Char- 
lotte Street  and  Nottingham  Place  are  in  better  hands. 
My  own  memoirs  are  dull  enough,  and  have  no  preten- 
sions even  to  furnish  a  little  light  summer  reading  for 
a  cit's  daughter  at  a  watering-place.  I  feel,  my  dearest 
Sarah,  that  your  mind  will  be  in  a  very  unfit  state  for 
the  stuff  I  have  just  scrawled,  when  you  hear  what  I 
have  just  heard  while  I  was  writing,  that  Fatty  has  this 
morning  lost  her  little  boy.  A  few  days  ago  he  had  a 
slight  relapse,  but  no  great  danger  was  apprehended. 
The  poor  little  object  of  all  their  anxieties  is  now,  how- 
ever, no  more.  I  have  not  yet  heard  the  particulars ; 
you  will,  I  suppose,  by  this  post  receive  them  from  Maria 
or  Mr.  T[owgood].  Pray  remember  me  very  particularly 
to  all  the  family  at  Cheadle.  To  two  of  that  family  I 
am  at  a  loss  how  to  express  myself.  I  have  deposited 
the  little  epistle  in  lavender,  and  shall  often  turn  to  it 
with  pride  and  pleasure.  It  is  some  consolation  to  a 
man  as  he  advances  in  life  that  he  sometimes  receives 
expressions  of  kindness  and  friendship  from  the  young 
and  the  lovely,  which  are  withheld,  or  at  least  concealed, 
from  the  gayer  and  younger  candidates  for  their  favor. 
Pray  give  my  sincere  and  unalterable  love  to  the  fair 
personage  above  alluded  to.  Adieu,  my  dear  girl, 
*  And  believe  me,  ever, 

^  Most  affectionately  yours, 

'S.  R. 


CORRESPONDENCE   WITH  R.  SHARP.  289 

*A  thousand  inquiries  were  made  about  you  at  the 
last  City  assembly.  Miss  Edison  said  she  should  have 
called  upon  you,  but  she  heard  you  were  gone  to  the 
north  of  Europe.' 

In  the  correspondence  with  Richard  Sharp  which 
took  place  during  Rogers's  absence  from  town  in  the 
autumn  of  this  year,  there  are  references  which  throw 
light  on  some  parts  of  the  life  of  both  the  writers.  It  is 
incomplete,  of  course,  for  it  only  fills  a  gap  in  that  per- 
sonal intercourse  which  at  this  period  was  constant  and 
intimate,  and  by  its  constancy  and  intimacy  escaped  all 
such  record.  In  October,  1797,  Rogers  was  at  Brighton, 
and  Richard  Sharp  replies  to  an  urgent  invitation  to 
get  out  of  business  for  a  time  and  pay  his  friend  a  visit. 
Richard  Sharp  pleads  his  mother's  illness,  the  approach- 
ing death  of  a  friend  who  he  fears  has  left  him  as  execu- 
tor, and  a  fortnight's  laborious  employment  that  a  West 
India  merchant  has  sent  him,  which,  he  says,  'will  occupy 
the  last  two  months  of  this  distressing  year.'  The  letter 
continues  ;  — 

*I  never  knew  before  the  full  value  of  a  taste  for 
reading.  During  the  last  twelve  months  I  have  had  no 
opportunity  of  gratifying  myself  in  any  other  amuse- 
ment. Books  are  always  at  hand,  and  though  I  never 
meddle  with  them  before  night,  yet  then  they  transport 
me  from  unpleasant  scenes  into  other  worlds,  and  inter- 
pose a  pleasant  hour  between  the  insipid  or  painful  occu- 
pations of  the  day.  Johnson  would  have  burned  this 
letter  before  he  had  read  the  first  page;  for  he  hated 
complaining  people.  Your  querulous  fellow  is  always 
selfish,  and  generally  finds  more  delight  in  talking  of  his 
own  pains  than  in  sympathizing  with  the  pleasures  of 
others.  I  am  not  so  far  gone  as  to  have  lost  my  relish 
for  your  occupations,  and  am  sincerely  rejoiced  when  I 

19 


290  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

think  how  completely  the  sea  air  seems  to  have  restored 
to  you  both  your  health  and  your  spirit.  Seize  the 
precious  moment ;  consult  your  solid  interest  by  increas- 
ing your  present  name.  Publish  as  soon  as  you  can,  that 
you  may  run  round  the  only  circles  where  you  can  now 
wish  to  move,  and  that  you  may  be  able  early  in  life  to 
enjoy  the  highest  possible  of  all  intellectual  pleasures,  — 
that  of  living  with  the  few  friends  you  may  have  se- 
lected from  every  class  and  every  rank.  For  a  delicate 
and  discriminating  man  it  is  necessary  that  he  should 
see  all,  to  select,  alas  !  a  very  few.' 

This  letter  appropriately  illustrates  the  influence 
which  Eichard  Sharp  exerted  on  his  friend.  He  had  a 
high  opinion  of  Eogers's  literary  powers,  and  shows  a 
constant  anxiety  that  those  powers  should  not  rust  in 
him  unused.  He  was  constantly  urging  him  along  the 
road  which  his  faculties  and  his  ambition  marked  out, 
but  which  ill-health,  a  too  fastidious  taste,  and  a  great 
love  of  social  intercourse,  threatened  to  block.  Kogers 
owed  him  much  in  the  way  of  stimulus  and  encourage- 
ment; he  probably  owed  him  almost  as  much  in  the 
way  of  suggestion  and  criticism.  There  must  have  been 
another  letter  from  Eichard  Sharp,  announcing  the 
death  of  his  friend,  and  telling  Eogers  something  of  his 
own  troubles  and  difficulties,  as  is  shown  in  Eogers's 
reply. 

Samuel  Rogers  to  Richard  Sharp, 

*  Surely,  my  dear  friend,  you  must  have  conceived  a 
very  sublime  idea  of  my  philosophy  to  think  it  equal  to 
such  trials.  But,  not  to  reproach  where  no  reproach  is 
due,  let  me  express  my  great  concern,  not  at  my  disap- 
pointment, but  at  the  events  which  have  occasioned  it, 
and  let  me  hope  that  you  will  not  suffer  your  spirits  to 
sink  under  such  an  accumulation  of  troubles. 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  R.   SHARP.  291 

*The  loss  of  sucli  a  friend,  as  the  last,  from  whom 
you  had  experienced  such  an  uninterrupted  succession 
of  good  and  kind  offices,  must  indeed  have  greatly 
affected  you.  After  all,  there  is  nothing  so  attaching  as 
kindness  j  indeed,  nothing  else  is  worth  living  for  in  this 
world. 

'  That  friend  has,  indeed,  left  you  in  a  very  delicate 
and  embarrassing  situation,  and  of  the  motives  for  his 
doing  so  there  can  be  no  doubt.  You  will,  of  course, 
take  no  step  till  after  you  have  maturely  weighed  it,  and 
then,  whatever  it  is,  I  am  sure  it  must  be  right. 

^With  regard  to  myself,  I  live  on  here  stupidly 
enough,  knowing  nobody  and  not  wishing  to  know  any- 
body. My  taste,  as  you  well  know,  has  been  too  fas- 
tidious for  my  happiness,  and  it  has  now  become  more 
so  than  ever.  Aikin  ^  was  a  great  comfort  while  he 
stayed.  He  began  his  operations  with  great  spirit ;  the 
weather  was  delightful,  our  situation  no  less  so,  and 
indeed  the  whole  scene  was  sufficient  to  intoxicate  even 
a  man  of  his  complexion.  He  over-fatigued  himself 
presently,  a  hemorrhage  came  on,  and  he  left  me  (though 
not  sooner  than  he  first  intended)  in  a  very  melancholy 
state  indeed.  I  never  knew  half  his  value  before.  Hoole 
and  his  son  live  within  a  mile  of  me,  and  are  a  very 
pleasant  acquisition.  Mathias  ^  has  also  given  me  great 
pleasure,  and  G-.  Morgan^  made  two  days  pass  very 
, smoothly.  But  the  translator  of  "  Ariosto  "  is  now  ill,  and 
the  last  two  have  vanished.  The  Prince  and  his  little 
court  left  us  on  Monday  for  the  season.     The  place  is 

1  Dr.  Aikin's  health,  as  Lucy  Aikin  tells  us,  had  visibly  declined 
all  this  year.  He  was  writing  the  first  volume  of  '  General  Biography,' 
and  editing  the  'Monthly  Magazine.'  On  the  day  this  letter  was 
written,  Aikin's  friend.  Dr.  Enfield,  died.  His  painful  illness  had 
exerted  a  very  depressing  effect  on  Aikin's  spirits. 

^  T.  J.  Mathias,  author  of  '  The  Pursuits  of  Literature.' 
'  George  Morgan,   nephew  of  Dr.   Price  and  brother  of  William 
Morgan,  who  wrote  Dr.  Price's  life. 


292  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

now  joyless  and  deserted,  and  the  Steyne,  which  was 
lately  crowded  with  the  young  and  the  gay,  is  now  re- 
signed to  the  nets  of  the  fishermen.  In  the  mean  time 
I  bustle  about,  and  my  regimen  consists  of  large 
draughts  every  morning  of  a  certain  pure  ether,  to  be 
taken  only  on  the  South  Downs,  and  which  is  sweetened 
by  the  efiiuvia  that  escape  from  the  wild  thyme  now 
in  full  blow.  I  had  flattered  myself  that  you  would 
have  shared  it  with  me,  mais  nHmporte.  I  must  bear  it 
as  I  can.  Give  me  leave  to  hope  that  the  alarm  was  a 
false  one,  and  that  your  mother  is  gradually  advancing 
to  be  what  you  wish  her. 

*  Adieu !  and  believe  me  to  be,  ever, 

^  Yours  very  affectionately, 

'S.  E. 
*  Bkighton,  Friday,  Novr.  3,  1797.' 

Richard  Sharp's  answer  to  this  letter  is  dated  the 
10th  of  November,  1797.  A  great  crisis  had  occurred  in 
his  life,  the  outline  of  which  can  only  be  dimly  traced 
in  his  correspondence  with  Rogers,  but  which  seems  to 
have  been  as  important  as  that  which  gave  Rogers  him- 
self the  wealth  he  was  now  enjoying.  In  this  letter  he 
announces  the  change.  His  friend  was  dead,  and  had 
left  him  as  one  of  his  executors  and  he  had  assumed  the 
trust.  After  speaking  of  some  private  matters  which 
throw  no  light  on  his  personal  history  and  have  no 
public  interest,  Richard  Sharp  says :  — 

*  It  turns  out  that  my  deceased  friend,  as  well  as  the 
living  brother,  have  always  wished  that  I  should  be  the 
representative  in  this  world  of  themselves  and  all  their 
immense  property.  This  I  never  supposed,  though  I 
had  reasons  undoubtedly  to  think  so.  Their  conduct 
has  been  so  singularly  affectionate  and  so  unspeakably 
respectful  to  me  in  this  matter,  that  I  should  be  the 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  R.   SHARP.  293 

most  ungrateful  of  the  human  race  if  I  did  not  do  what- 
ever they  have  desired  I  should  do.  Two  men,  who 
have  desired  to  unite  me  to  their  only  child  and  to  more 
than  £150,000  are  entitled  to  command  me,  and  all  that 
is  mine,  in  every  case  and  to  every  possible  extent.  I 
shall,  however,  have  but  little  employment  in  the  trust  at 
present,  nor  will  it  be  ever  complicated  or  difficult.  .  .  . 
Last  night  I  read  a  paper  at  our  Society,  ^  On  the 
Sublime  and  Beautiful  in  External  Objects,'  in  sounds,, 
colors,  forms,  and  language.  We  were  a  full  Club, 
which  is  rather  uncommon  on  the  first  night  of  the 
season. 

^  Boddington  extols  your  situation  at  Brighton  ;  but 
your  picture  of  the  Steyne  and  of  the  Downs  interested 
me  more  than  his  panegyrics.  I  hope  you  write,  as  well 
as  ride  and  read.  I  hope,  too,  yet  I  know  the  perils  of 
the  wish,  that  you  have  found  stronger  inducements  to 
stay  by  the  sea  than  the  desire  of  health  or  amusement. 
Are  you  determined  (without  my  excuses)  to  waste  your 
youth  as  I  have  done  ?  With  all  that  can  invite  and 
satisfy  in  manners,  fortune,  and  character,  will  you  defer 
the  chief  scene  of  life  till  you  must  perform  it  under 
many  disadvantages  ?  Remember  your  own  illustra- 
tion,—  the  rivulet  that  became  a  river,  and  the  river 
that  widened  into  a  sea. 

*I  have  not  been  in  my  place  either  in  the  Strand  or 
in  Bond  Street.  Favell  gave  me  a  dull  dinner  with 
Home  Tooke  on  Monday.  He  was  never  kinder,  but  the 
spring  of  this  curious  machine  seems  to  have  lost  its 
elasticity.  ...  I  have  learned  from  you,  I  suppose,  to  be 
very  jocose  and  entertaining  "  dum  angor  intus,  et  ipse 
meum  cor  edens  incedo."  If  I  go  on  for  another  year 
thus,  I  shall  eclipse  you  in  gayety  by  mere  dint  of  melan- 
choly, and  shall  be  as  sentimental  and  as  interesting  as 
the  most  inspired  poet  can  desire.  If  you  do  not  mean 
to  envy  as  well  as  admire  me,  you  must  come  soon  to 


294  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Town,  and,  by  cheering  me  with  your  presence,  bring  me 
back  again  to  the  natural  stupidity  and  serenity  of  my 
character.' 

Eogers's  reply  to  this  letter,  written  from  Brighton  on 
the  14th  of  November,  1797,  contained  the  following 
passage : — 

*Yes,  my  dear  friend,  I  am  indeed  of  your  opinion 
(though  I  fear  you  were  not  aware  of  the  full  meaning 
of  your  words)  that  you  would  be  very  blamable  if  you 
did  not  do  whatever  they  have  desired  you  to  do.  I 
believe  I  have  delicacy,  I  know  I  have  pride,  and  yet, 
were  such  an  alternative  placed  before  me,  I  think  I 
should  not  hesitate.  But  why  should  I  say  anything  ? 
I  was  once  more  than  pleased  with  her.  I  could  again, 
I  am  persuaded,  love  her  better  than  ever ;  and  if  I 
have  sometimes  affected  to  resent  the  little  sallies  of  a 
lively  and  open  temper,  it  was  in  order  to  disguise  them 
to  my  own  vanity  as  the  effects  of  a  pique  at  the  discon- 
tinuance of  attentions  which  I  am  now  convinced  she 
never  cared  for,  and  has  entirely  forgotten.  If  she  were 
to  become  the  wife  of  my  friend  I  am  very  sure  we 
should  fall  desperately  in  love  with  each  other  in  a 
fortnight.     So,  beware ! ' 

The  self-revelation  of  this  passage  makes  it  an  im- 
portant contribution  to  Eogers's  early  history.  It  shows, 
at  least,  that  he  did  not  deliberately  lay  out  his  life  from 
the  first  on  the  plan  of  bachelor  freedom.  He  makes  no 
further  reply  to  Eichard  Sharp's  hint  as  to  deferring 
*  the  chief  scene  of  life,'  unless  indeed  the  tone  of  the 
rest  of  the  letter,  especially  the  reference  to  his  flirtation, 
may  be  regarded  as  a  kind  of  escape  from  a  subject  which 
had  unwelcome  associations.    He  continues,  — 

'  I  have  nothing  to  send  you  but  a  diary  of  the  weather 
and  a  chronicle  of  visits ;   I  am  reading  French  novels 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  R.  SHARP.  295 

with  relentless  fury,  and  though  I  am  not,  like  you,  the 
hero  of  a  romance,  I  am  often  acting  a  part  in  one, 
though  a  very  subordinate  part. 

*  Did  I  tell  you  of  my  flirtation  with  a  very  celebrated 
countess  ?  .  .  .  How  I  dined  alone  with  her,  rode  alone 
with  her,  spent  an  evening  alone  with  her,  the  last  she 
spent  in  Brighton,  and  how  I  was  domesticated  with 
her  daughters  ?  And  such  daughters  —  but  nHmporte!  I 
shall  only  observe  en  jpassant  that  if  you  think  you  have 
any  notion  of  what  perfection  a  woman  can  attain  to  you 
are  quite  mistaken,  and  should  be  punished  for  your  pre- 
sumption. I  hope  the  Prince  is  jealous  of  me,  for  I  am 
most  furiously  so  of  him. 

*  The  Hooles  dined  with  me  yesterday,  and  beg  to  be 
remembered  to  you. 

^  We  have  had  the  most  delicious  weather,  —  an  Italian 
sky,  and  the  air  clear  as  crystal  from  sunrise  to  sun- 
set. Deserted  as  we  are,  we  are  still  cheerful,  tho'  we 
make  no  effort  to  be  gay.  A  regiment-band  plays  twice 
a  day  under  my  window ;  and  we  form  the  pleasantest 
little  supper-parties  imaginable,  a  melange  of  cards  and 
conversation,  music  and  macaroni.  Last  night  it  was 
held  cTiez  the  Thompsons ;  to-night  Mrs.  Hope  opens 
her  rooms ;  and  to-morrow  night  Mrs.  Dawson,  a  lady 
of  great  beauty  and  accomplishments,  who  cost  Erskine 
a  duel  some  years  ago.  To  tell  you  a  secret,  I  am  in 
fashion  just  now,  —  arrangements  are  made  to  see  me, 
and  the  favor  will  last  three  days.  The  great  Petrie  is 
here  (a  Parisian  acquaintance),  and  his  wife,  who  trails 
about  in  her  equipage  of  four  horses,  has  invited  me  to 
Gatton ;  so  I  shall  call  in  my  transit  to  town.  But  I 
have  played  the  egotist  long  enough,  and  shall  only  add 
that  you  are  in  no  present  danger  of  losing  the  picture ; 
my  pulse  beats  very  temperately. 

*  I  am  sorry  I  was  not  present  the  other  night.  Why 
did  not  you  send  an  express  for  me  ?    The  Society  will 


296  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

recover  itself  in   my   opinion;   if  it  discovers  a  little 
respect  for  us,  I  shall  require  no  more. 
*  Adieu,  my  dear  Friend  ! 

*  Ever  yours, 

The  countess  to  whom  he  thus  humorously  alludes 
was  Lady  Jersey  ^  whose  acquaintance  he  had  made 
during  this  visit,  and  whom  he  continued  to  visit  in  after 
years.  Her  intimacy  with  the  Prince  of  Wales  was 
one  of  the  Court  scandals  of  the  time.  It  need  only  be 
referred  to  here  by  way  of  annotation  on  Rogers's  letter. 
It  was  about  this  time  that  he  wrote  the  lines  to  Lady 
Jersey's  youngest  daughter  Harriet.  Her  elder  sister 
was  about  to  be  married,  and  the  younger  sister  had 
written  some  lines  on  the  coming  event.  E-ogers  remon- 
strates in  the  following  stanzas :  — 

*  Ah !  why  with  tell-tale  tongue  reveal 
AVhat  most  her  blushes  would  conceal? 
Why  lift  that  modest  veil  to  trace 
The  seraph  sweetness  of  her  face? 
Some  fairer,  better  sport  prefer, 
And  feel  for  us,  if  not  for  her. 
For  this  presumption,  soon  or  late, 
Know  thine  shall  be  a  kindred  fate. 
Another  shall  in  vengeance  rise. 
Sing  Harriet's  cheeks,  and  Harriet's  eyes ; 
And,  echoing  back  her  woodnotes  wild, 
Trace  all  the  mother  in  the  child.' 

It  was  to  Lady  Jersey  that  Rogers  once  expressed 
his  regret  that  he  was  not  married,  —  a  regret  that  he 

1  Frances  Twysden,  daughter  and  heiress  of  the  bishop  of  Raphoe 
wife  of  the  fourth  earl  of  Jersey,  whom  she  married  in  1770.  She  was 
therefore  much  older  than  Rogers.  Miss  Frampton  (Journal,  p.  84)  de- 
scribes her  as  *  clever  and  unprincipled,  but  beautiful  and  fascinatiug.' 


REGRETS  HIS  BACHELORHOOD.       297 

often  felt  and  expressed,  especially  in  his  later  years. 
^  If  I  had  a  wife/  he  said,  '  I  should  have  somebody  to 
care  about  me.'  '  How  could  you  be  sure,'  asked  Lady 
Jersey  in  reply,  'that  your  wife  would  not  care  more 
about  somebody  else  than  about  you  ? '  Why  he  never 
married  is  not  known.  Lady  Morgan,  some  time  after 
his  death,  published  a  statement  that  he  had  made  'a. 
formal  proposition  for  the  hand  and  fortune '  of  Cecilia 
Thrale  before  she  had  attained  her  fifteenth  year.  She 
tells  the  story  in  order  to  support  the  ridiculous  false- 
hood that  Rogers  resented  his  refusal  and  consequently 
accused  Mrs.  Thrale's  daughters  of  neglecting  her  after 
her  marriage  with  Piozzi.  There  is  not  the  slightest 
foundation  for  Lady  Morgan's  story  in  any  documents 
Eogers  has  left  behind.  He  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Cecilia  Thrale  at  Edinburgh  in  1789,  and  expresses  sur- 
prise at  finding  her  to  be  only  twelve  years  old.  He 
did  not  become  acquainted  with  the  other  daughters  till 
January,  1801,  as  will  be  seen  by  a  letter  to  his  sister  in 
the  next  chapter,  which  letter  he  writes  'after  dining 
with  Mrs.  Mostyn  (my  old  friend  Cecilia  Thrale).'  The 
whole  of  the  references  to  the  Piozzis  in  the  diaries 
already  given  disprove  the  insinuation  that  Rogers  stood 
in  any  such  relations  with  them  as  a  scornful  rejection 
by  Cecilia  Thrale  in  her  girlhood  would  have  brought 
about.  The  only  traces  of  a  susceptible  period  in  his 
life  are  those  which  occur  in  his  correspondence  with 
Richard  Sharp,  in  the  years  between  1795  and  1801. 

To  the  letter  which  contains  the  hint  of  love  and  dis- 
appointment Richard  Sharp  replies  in  a  long  confiden- 
tial epistle,  further  continuing  his  own  romantic  story. 
Of  this  romance  there  is  no  continuation.  In  Richard 
Sharp's  next  letter  he  says  his  life  'for  the  last  eight 
days  has  been  a  stagnant  pool,  after  tumbling  down 
cataracts  and  making  a  furious  noise  to  very  little  pur- 
pose.'    He  contiuues :  — 


298  EARLY  LIFE  OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

'My  romance  will  not  finish,  I  apprehend,  either  in 
a  church  or  in  a  churchyard,  as  all  others  do,  but  will 
terminate  in  some  poor  vapid  conclusion,  or  break  off 
suddenly,  yet  not  before  there  is  evidence  enough  of  a 
want  of  ability  and  resources  to  carry  it  on  to  any  in- 
teresting end.  If  men  and  women,  too,  insist  upon  it 
that  I  must  play  an  old  part  before  I  have  run  the  round 
of  younger  characters,  why  I  must  submit  —  unless  I 
choose  to  be  hissed  off  the  scene  —  to  perform  what 
others  may  approve,  how  much  soever  it  may  be  against 
my  own  inclination.  The  town  would  not  hear  even 
Garrick  in  "Eomeo,"  but  called  him  to  be  the  merry 
bachelor  "  Mercutio,"  or  the  melancholy  and  sententious 
"  Hamlet."  If  I  am  not  to  be  the  happy  man  in  a  regu- 
lar comedy,  I  hope  still  to  retain  the  old  fellow  in  a 
farce,  or  the  clown  in  a  pantomime.  Tragedy  is  not  to 
my  taste.' 

There  the  romance  ends,  and  we  hear  no  more  of  it. 
He  had  recovered  his  spirits,  and  turned  at  once  to  give 
his  friend  that  excellent  advice  for  which  he  was  distin- 
guished all  his  life.  He  says  :  '  Flirting  with  countesses 
is  sadly  anti-matrimonial.  The  French  opera  spoils  the 
taste  for  Moliere  or  Eacine.  ...  I  do  not  like  this  regu- 
larity of  your  pulse,  except  as  it  is  a  proof  that  your 
blood  is  not  to  be  warmed  by  the  brilliancy  of  fashion  or 
the  fever  of  dissipation.'  There  is  a  curious  hint,  too,  in 
this  letter,  that  even  at  this  early  period  Rogers  had 
thought  of  *  Columbus  '  as  the  subject  of  a  poem.  '  Ah! ' 
writes  Eichard  Sharp,  ^  I  hear  nothing  of  the  "  Epistle." 
The  watering-place  obliterates  the  happy  valley's  picture. 
You  are  so  busy  in  discovering  new  worlds  at  home  that 
"  Columbus  "  is  forgotten.'  '  Columbus '  was  not  finished 
till  many  years  later.  It  was  printed  in  1810  and  pub- 
lished in  1812.  The  *  Epistle'  was  very  familiar  to 
Eichard  Sharp.     He  had  been  consulted  as  to  many  of 


GOSSIP  ABOUT  MARRYING.  299 

its  lines,  and  was  an  approving  critic.  Samuel  Sharpe 
tells  us  that  when  Rogers  showed  it  to  his  friend  from 
time  to  time  he  would  say:  'Let  it  alone,  it  can't  be 
better.'  But  Mr.  Eogers  was  not  so  easily  satisfied,  and 
continued  to  recast  and  to  mend  the  rugged  lines,  and 
when  he  again  showed  it  to  his  critic,  Sharp  would  say : 
*  It  is  quite  another  thing.' 

In  this  early  correspondence  with  Richard  Sharp  there 
are  further  hints  which  show  that,  at  this  period,  when 
he  was  between  the  ages  of  thirty  and  thirty-five,  Rogers 
contemplated  matrimony,  not  only  as  a  distant  possi- 
bility, but  as  a  near  and  probable  event.  I  have  pointed 
out  some  of  these  hints  in  letters  already  given ;  but  if 
we  go  forward  another  year,  there  is  what  amounts  almost 
to  the  statement  that  he  was  actually  engaged.  Mr. 
Hay  ward,  in  his  affectionate  and  appreciative  memorial 
article  on  Rogers  in  the  '  Edinburgh  Review,'  says  that 
*his  own  version  of  his  nearest  approximation  to  the 
nuptial  tie  was  that  when  a  young  man  he  admired  and 
sedulously  sought  the  society  of  the  most  beautiful  girl 
he  then  and  still  thought  he  had  ever  seen.  At  the  end 
of  the  London  season  she  said  to  him  at  a  ball :  ''  I  go  to- 
morrow to  Worthing.  Are  you  coming  there  ?  "  He  did 
not  go.  Some  months  afterwards  being  at  Ranelagh  he 
saw  that  the  attention  of  every  one  was  drawn  towards 
a  large  party  that  had  just  entered,  in  the  centre  of 
which  was  a  lady  leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  husband. 
Stepping  forward  to  see  this  wonderful  beauty,  he  found 
it  was  his  love.  She  merely  said  :  "You  never  came  to 
Worthing." '  This  story  rests  on  the  sole  authority  of 
Mr.  Hay  ward.  Whether  it  was  'his  nearest  approxi- 
mation to  the  nuptial  tie '  seems  a  little  doubtful  when 
we  read  some  of  his  confidential  communications  on  the 
subject  to  his  friend  Richard  Sharp.  In  the  autumn  of 
1798  he  was  again  at  Brighton,  and  his  letters  to  his 
sister  Sarah  and  to  his  friend  Sharp  give  a  vivid  picture 


300  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

of  a  Brighton  season  at  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, at  the  same  time  that  they  throw  further  light  on 
the  personal  history  both  of  Sharp  and  Eogers. 

S.  Bogers  to  Richard  Sharp, 

*Mt  dear  Friend,  —  I  have  nothing  to  send  to  you; 
but  having  said  I  should  write,  I  shall  keep  my  promise 
by  reminding  you  of  yours.  On  my  arrival  here  I  threw 
myself  into  a  temporary  lodging,  and  then  flew  to  Worth- 
ing, where  I  spent  three  very  pleasant  days  with  the 
Ellises.  On  my  return  I  found  Parsons  in  full  cry  after 
me,  and  by  him  was  persuaded  to  adopt  a  plan  of  life 
which  I  relished  little,  though  it  has  turned  out  toler- 
ably well.  We  have  taken  a  house  on  the  cliff,  every 
room  of  which  is  like  the  cabin  of  an  Indiaman,  com- 
manding nothing  but  blue  sea,  and  there  we  dwell  a  la 
Gibbon,  having  separate  parlors,  and  breakfasting  sepa- 
rately, but  dining  together  when  we  have  neither  of  us 
any  engagement.  This  you  will  imagine  occurs  not  very 
frequently.  When  it  does  we  generally  invite  a  friend 
or  two.  Mr.  Matthew,  a  most  elegant  and  accomplished 
man  of  family  (I  use  the  language  of  the  world),  Mr. 
Walpole,  our  minister  at  Munich,  and  Mr.  Gray,  the 
Resident  at  Dresden,  of  whom  I  must  have  spoken  to 
you,  have  been  our  occasional  guests.  With  the  com- 
pany I  have  mixed  but  little,  not  wishing  to  open  my 
campaign  seriously  till  your  arrival,  and  I  have  nothing 
to  relate,  though  I  have  had  a  dinner  with  Francis,  a 
conversation  with  Jekyll,  and  a  most  sumptuous  enter- 
tainment with  some  Cognoscenti  at  Concannon's.  In  the 
morning  I  walk  on  the  Steyne  to  military  music,  and 
afterwards  take  a  gallop  with  the  hounds  or  the  ladies. 
At  three  there  is  a  full  promenade,  and  the  evening 
takes  care  of  itself.  When  may  I  expect  you  to  join 
us  ?    We  have  a  bed  reserved  for  you,  and  you  must  be 


LETTERS  TO  R.  SHARP. 


301 


my  guest.  Indeed,  you  were  uppermost  in  my  thoughts 
when  the  house  was  taken.  When  will  you  come  that 
we  may  make  our  criticisms  together  on  the  beauties 
of  the  Steyne,  and  afterwards  steal  away  along  the  cliff 
to  open  our  hearts  and  minds  to  each  other,  and  form 
schemes  of  happiness  out  of  the  materials  before  us  ? 
Schemes,  did  I  say?  Are  we  still  scheming?  Little 
did  we  think,  when  we  first  entered  the  world  and 
ranked  ourselves  as  men,  that  twenty  years  afterwards 
we  should  be  still  only  planning  how  to  live,  and  busy- 
ing ourselves  with  projects  of  happiness.  Come,  my 
dear  friend ;  lose  no  time,  for  my  sake  and  your  own. 
Come  and  find  me  as  ever, 

*  Your  most  faithful  friend, 

*S.  E. 

*  BRmHTON,  Octr.  26,  1798. 

'  No.  8  Marine  Parade. 

^Parsons  desires  me  to  say  everything  for  him.' 


S.  Rogers  to  R.  Sharp. 

*  Brighton,  5  Novr.  1798. 

*  My  dear  Friend,  —  A  thousand  thanks  for  your  kind 

letters.     L 's  demands  are  indeed  exorbitant !     Had 

he  asked  £350  we  might  have  listened  to  him.  Our  rent 
would  even  then  for  the  first  13  years  be  £40  —  the  sum 
he  was  contented  to  receive  for  it  in  its  best  state  from 
a  casual  tenant  while  the  furniture  was  comparatively 
new,  which  together  with  the  house  will  grow  worse  and 
worse  as  the  rent  increases.     I  resign  my  claim  to  our 

friend  Tuffin,  but  should  he  also  decline  it,  and  L 

continue  firm,  we  may  at  least  solicit  to  become  yearly 
tenants  or  for  a  short  lease.  Could  you  procure  me  a 
sight  of  it  on  my  way  to  town  ?  ^ 

1  They  seem  to  have  contemplated  taking  a  house  together  near 
Mick]ehani  in  '  our  valley  *  as  he  calls  it  in  this  letter  on  page  303. 


302  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

*Your  first  letter  gave  me  concern;  I  will  not  say 
disappointment,  for  you  have  long  taught  me  not  to  be 
sanguine.  I  lament  exceedingly  the  very  delicate  and 
embarrassing  situation  in  which  you  are  placed,  but 
doubt  not  that  you  will  extricate  yourself  even  to  your 
own  satisfaction.  Eemember  the  first  break  of  day  on 
our  return  out  of  the  cavern  at  Castleton.  What  a 
recompense  for  our  labors  !  I  wish  I  could  tantalize  you 
with  a  description  of  the  life  I  lead  here,  of  Mrs.  Schol- 
let's  evening  parties,  where  the  young  and  the  gay  as- 
semble nightly,  to  laugh,  and  to  sing,  and  to  play  at 
"  my  lady's  toilet,"  and  where  I  have  more  than  once 
found  myself  alone  among  six  or  seven  beautiful  girls, 
who  paint,  and  play  on  the  harp  divinely,  who  devour 
the  books  you  recommend  to  them,  and  who  accost  you 
with  that  voice,  cette  voix  argentee  de  la  jeunesse  —  mais 
n'importe  ;  nor  will  I  describe  their  form  tres  mignonne 
et  tres  formee,  ce  qui  est  pour  une  fille  le  plus  beau 
moment.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  I  have  been  charmed  out 
of  my  senses,  and  I  have  made  one  acquaintance  which, 
I  hope,  will  last  for  life.  Interpret  this  last  expression 
as  you  please.     Oh  that  I  had  you  here  ! 

^I  have  read  a  novel  which  has  enchanted  me: 
"Clara"  [by]  Du  Plessis.  Have  you?  If  not,  pray  do. 
I  have  also  read  the  "  Confessions,"  against  which  I  had 
conceived  a  prejudice,  I  don't  know  why.  I  now  rave 
about  them,  to  the  astonishment  of  Parsons,  who  says  he 
has  Rousseau  by  heart,  but  never  could  like  him.  But 
is  he  right  ?  Different  minds  find  different  things  in 
the  same  book.  The  same  letters  and  syllables  pass  in 
review  before  the  eye,  but  what  different  feelings  and 
associations  are  excited.  In  what  a  different  sense  is  it 
often  confidently  said  in  company,  "I  have  read  that 
book."  What  a  charming  frankness  runs  through  the 
"  Confessions  "  !  How  admirably  he  describes  his  silence 
before  those  he  loved,  his  suffering  "  un  gros  butor  de 


READS  ROUSSEAU'S  'CONFESSIONS/  303 

valet "  to  pick  up  Mme.  de  Breil's  glove,  his  first  and  last 
interview  with  Mme.  de  Warens,  and  above  all  his  day's 
adventure  with  the  two  girls  at  Toune  ;  his  want  of  words, 
yet  his  rage  for  talking ;  his  journeys  on  foot,  "  le  grand 
air,  le  grand  appetit,''  though  I  could  never  enter  into 
"  la  liberte  du  cabaret ;  "  his  night  spent  in  the  open  air 
near  Lyons  —  what  a  heavenly  climate  !  —  his  notion  of  a 
fine  country  "  des  torrens,  des  precipices,"  not  that  I  ever 
loved  to  "  contempler  au  fond,  et  gagner  des  vertiges 
tout  a  mon  aise;"  his  castle-building  on  the  Lake  of 
Geneva,  "absolument  au  bord  de  ce  lac  et  non  pas  d'un 
autre."  Cannot  we  say  the  same  of  our  valley  ?  "  Son 
gout  vif  pour  les  dejeunes  "  [sic'].  Oh  that  he  had  been 
a  Templar  !  His  portraits,  particularly  that  of  Venture, 
his  whole  employment  at  Paris  "ay  chercher  des  res- 
sources  pour  se  mettre  en  etat  d'en  vivre  eloigne."  But 
enough,  I  must  have  worn  you  out.  I  have  a  thousand 
things  to  say,  a  thousand  stories  to  tell,  among  others 
that  of  our  fair  hostesses  at  Llangollen,  but  adieu !  the 
sun  shines,  the  music  plays,  and  a  lady  has  sent  her 
groom  to  say  that  she  is  already  on  horseback. 

'  Yours  most  affect^, 

^S.  K. 

*The  ladies,  I  see,  have  dismounted  for  five  minutes 
at  Lady  Lucan's,  and  I  may  proceed.  I  wish  you  joy 
of  your  correspondent.  May  the  conversion  be  mutual ! 
Poor  Morgan  !  he  will  certainly  die  of  some  experiment. 
When  you  see  Boddington  tell  him  I  hope  to  see  him. 
Who  but  Cumberland  could  write  an  epic  at  a  public 
place  ?  A  propos  of  Miss  C,  she  has  written  a  play  and 
is  writing  a  novel  in  concert  with  another  girl.  Who 
could  have  thought  it  ?  But  your  coy  girls  are  up  to 
anything.  I  wish  you  could  see  Matthew.  He  answers 
Parsons's  idea  of  a  perfect  man  of  fashion,  and  indeed  he 
deserves  it.     No  attitudes,  no  conceit,  very  simple  and 


304  EARLY  LIFE  OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

very  easy;  but  after  all,  men  of  fashion  are  mannerists, 
and  all  manner  is  bad.  A  natural  character,  manners 
forever  varying  with  the  thoughts  and  feelings,  how- 
superior  to  that  uniform  and  monotonous  thing  called 
high  breeding !  You  will  say  I  am  growing  sensibleyQ^nd 
that  it  comes  from  living  with  P.  I  can  assure  you 
1  never  knew  before  that  I  was  so  unlike  him,  though  I 
must  confess  that  I  sometimes  envy  him,  and  indeed 
a  thousand  others  who  elbow  their  way  on  in  the  world. 
A  hard  nature  frequently  imposes  itself  on  the  world 
for  a  superior  nature.  Its  confidence  seems  to  confirm 
its  claims,  and  its  insensibility  to  place  it  above  (and 
not  below)  the  reach  of  sufferings  by  which  a  feeling 
and  shrinking  nature  is  continually  harassed  and  ob- 
structed in  the  commerce  of  life.  I  never  made  this 
stale  remark  so  feelingly  to  myself  as  I  have  done  since 
I  came  here.  I  must  away,  to  ride  with  two  pretty 
women,  and  then  dress  for  Mr.  Hope's  dinner  and  Lord 
Carrington's  ball.  You  will  think  me  very  gay,  but  I 
have  long  found  that  there  is  at  least  as  much  if  not 
more  ennui  in  society  than  out  of  it.' 

A  letter  to  his  sister,  written  four  days  later,  continues 
the  description  of  the  gayeties  of  Brighton  in  1798  :  — 

Samuel  Rogers  to  Sarah  Rogers, 

'Brighton,  9th  Novr.  1798. 
'  Ko,  he  has  not  forgotten  her,  nor  ever  will  cease  to 
remember  her,  he  can  truly  say,  with  pride  and  pleasure. 
In  all  his  castles  (and  night  and  day  he  is  building  them) 
she  still  has  a  place  ;  and  when  all  his  wanderings  are 
over  (as  they  soon  will  be)  he  hopes  and  trusts  that  she 
will  not  shut  her  heart  against  him,  but  will  welcome 
back  one  who  is  ever  the  same,  and  whose  regard  for 
her  is,  if  possible,  increased,  not  lessened,  by  absence. 


FOLLIES  AND  FEMALES  OF  BRIGHTON.         305 

Yes,  my  dear  Sarah,  you  are  indeed  often  in  njy  thoughts, 
and  whenever  I  shall  have  a  home  let  me  hope  you  will 
sometimes  at  least  deign  to  grace  it.  Its  door  will 
always  fly  open  to  welcome  you.  Here  —  though  per- 
haps you  will  smile  when  I  say  so  —  I  feel  alone  in  a 
crowd,  as  a  thousand  gay  images  are  passing  continually 
by  me  ;  but,  like  the  ombres  chinoises,  they  leave  no  trace, 
nothing  for  the  heart  to  fix  upon,  or  the  mind  to  recall 
with  any  real  satisfaction  to  itself.  Yet  as  you  wish  me 
to  send  you  a  register  of  the  follies  of  the  place,  I  must 
obey ;  though,  were  I  to  do  them  justice,  I  should  exhaust 
reams  of  paper,  and  ruin  you  in  postage.  But  where 
shall  I  begin  ?  With  Concannon's  supper-parties,  where 
there  is  charming  music,  which  you  are  not  compelled 
to  listen  to,  where  French  dishes  are  served  up  on  silver 
chiffoirs,  and  where  champagne  goes  round  with  glees 
and  bon  mots  to  an  early  hour ;  or  with  Mrs.  Schollet's 
humbler  though  merrier  meetings,  where  there  is  more 
beauty  though  less  fashion,  and  where  "  my  lady's  toilet '' 
and  a  thousand  whimseys  fill  the  room  with  noise 
and  disorder ;  or  with  Miss  Haldimand's  conversationes, 
where  I  was  introduced  on  the  first  evening  blindfold, 
and  where  Miss  Cleaver,  a  relation  of  the  Huttons,  plays 
divinely  on  the  harp,  and  looks  as  divinely  ;  or  with  Lord 
Carrington's  ball,  where  I  spent  last  night  among  Lady 
Marys  and  Lady  Bettys,  where  the  supper  shone  most 
splendidly  with  youth  and  beauty,  and  jellied  meats  and 
grapes  and  pine-apples  ?  No,  my  dear  Sarah,  I  will  begin 
with  a  list  of  the  dramatis  personce  here,  and  leave  my 
whereabouts  for  another  chapter.  Here  is  Mrs.  Arm- 
stead  (Fox  is  pheasant- shooting  in  Norfolk),  who  lives  in 
a  small  cabin  with  a  man  and  a  maid,  and  who  is  read- 
ing "  Emily  Montagu  "  for  the  third  time  ;  Mrs.  Bristow, 
who  still  dances  a  Vopera,  but  is  now  in  a  little  disguise, 
having  last  winter  got  rid  of  a  dropsy  in  a  remarkable 
manner ;  Mrs.  Horsley,  who  looks  very  dull  and  rather 

20 


EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

old ;  a  Miss  Grant,  who  is  seldom  seen,  but  who,  without 
entering  into  these  gayeties,  looks  very  cheerful  and  very 
well,  and  makes  many  kind  inquiries  after  her  friends  ; 
Miss  Hunt,  who  was  once  to  have  been  married  to  Lord 
Wycombe,  and  who  has  three  mines  in  Cornwall  with 
3;000  lamps  burning  night  and  day  in  each  of  them; 
Tommy  Onslow,  who  is  one  instant  seen  in  his  phaeton 
and  six,  and  the  very  next  on  a  docktail  pony,  with 
his  skirts  pinned  up,  and  his  hat  in  his  hand,  bumping 
along  the  London  road  at  the  rate  of  twelve  miles  an 
hour ;  General  Manners,  who  follows  the  hounds  in  a 
low  chair,  which  he  says  he  gave  eight  guineas  for 
twelve  years  ago,  and  which  is  dragged  up  and  down 
the  hills  by  a  tall  white  coach-horse ;  Miss  White,  a 
most  charming  and  elegant  woman  about  thirty-five, 
who,  after  having  long  excited  the  admiration  of  the 
Pump  Room  by  her  wit  and  her  talents,  shut  herself  up 
in  her  father's  sick-room  for  two  long  years,  but  he  is 
now  dead,  and  she  lives  at  present  in  Sir  J.  Eeynolds's 
house  at  Richmond  on  an  independency  of  £1,200  per 
annum — you  must  know  her  ;  Lady  Lucan,  who  is  illu- 
minating a  Shakspeare  with  her  beautiful  drawings, 
and  who  sleeps  every  night  in  her  little  steel  travelling- 
bed,  lest  she  should  feel  any  difference  between  at  home 
and  abroad;  and  Mrs.  Hope,  who  turns  up  her  nose 
alike  at  English  peeresses  and  English  [customs],  and 
whose  little  girls  come  in  regularly  with  the  dessert 
after  dinner,  with  earrings,  and  necklaces,  and  white 
gloves.  But  I  could  continue  my  list  till  Christmas,  and 
shall  conclude  with  Mr.  Spencer,  who  is  a  nephew  of  the 
Duke  of  Marlboro',  who  translated  "  Leonora,"  and  who 
married  rather  oddly.  When  he  was  at  Heidelberg,  a 
mutual  attachment  took  place  between  him  and  the  wife 
of  an  ex-German  nobleman,  who  became  uneasy  at  it, 
and  Mr.  S.  left  the  place.  She  was  an  Englishwoman 
born  there.     On  his  departure  she  solicited  leave  of  her 


BRIGHTON  GOSSIP.  307 

husband  to  hear  once  a  year  from  Mr.  S.  The  Baron 
consented,  and  immediately  wrote  to  Mr.  S.  to  meet 
him  at  an  inn  on  the  road.  Mr.  S.  came  and  found  him 
dead ;  he  had  shot  himself,  and  had  left  a  letter  on  the 
table,  recommending  his  wife  as  a  most  amiable  and 
excellent  woman  to  the  regard  and  protection  of  Mr. 
Spencer.  Mrs.  S.,  who  has  nothing  remarkable  about 
her,  is  just  here.  Apropos,  I  have  just  received  a  letter 
from  Briguola ;  he  is  well,  but  low  in  spirits,  at  Florence, 
and  desires  his  homage  to  you.  Parsons  and  myself 
are  here  on  the  edge  of  old  Ocean,  who  has  been  taken 
rather  fractious  lately.  The  spray  wets  our  windows, 
and  the  wind  rocks  our  beds,  and  the  door  sometimes 
requires  three  men  to  shut  it.  We  live  like  Gibbon  and 
Deyverdun  (in  only  one  respect,  I  fear),  breakfasting 
separately  and  dining  together,  when  disengaged.  We 
then  sometimes  indulge  ourselves  v^iih.  di.  partie  carree ; 
and  Mr.  Walpole,  the  Munich  minister,  and  Mr.  Gray, 
our  Kesident  at  Dresden,  have  formed  it  frequently  with 
us.  We  have  a  decent  cook,  and  P.'s  Frenchman  is 
just  equal  to  an  omelette  or  a  fricassee.  P.  bathes  most 
furiously,  and  parades  along  the  cliff  in  a  flannel  robe 
and  pantaloons.  By  some  he  is  taken  for  the  Pope,  who 
has  emigrated ;  by  others  for  a  Carthusian  friar.  Your 
More  returns  her  best  thanks  for  kind  inquiries.  She 
still  excites  a  little  notice,  and  is  forever  scampering 
with  the  hounds  or  the  ladies.  But  adieu  !  my  dear 
Sarah.  I  must  prepare  myself  for  Lady  Clark's  sup- 
per, where  there  is  to  be  a  general  insurrection  this 
evening.  Eemember  me  to  everybody  at  Aspleyns  and 
Amersham. 

*  Affectionately  yours, 

'S.K.' 


CHAPTER  XI. 

*  An  Epistle  to  a  Friend.'  —  Letters  from  Dr.  Warton.  — W.  Gilpin.  — 
Criticisms  and  changes  in  the  poem.  —  Mr.  Hayward's  criticism.  — 
Rogers  and  Fox,  Erskine.  —  Political  Warfare.  —  The  Fox  Banquet, 
1798.  —  The  Duke  of  Norfolk.  —  Prosecution  of  Gilbert  Wakefield. 
—  Parr  and  Mackintosh. 

The  ^Epistle  to  a  Friend'  was  already  finished  when,  in 
the  autumn  of  1797,  Richard  Sharp  inquired  about  it. 
It  had  in  all  probability  originated  in  conversations  with 
him,  and  it  may  be  regarded  as  a  poetical  reply  to  the 
arguments  he  had  used  to  induce  Rogers  to  leave  his 
suburban  home  and  plunge  into  the  social  life  of  the 
West  End  of  London.  His  nephew,  Samuel  Sharpe, 
speaks  of  it  as  ^  a  picture  of  his  mind  at  the  age  of  thirty- 
five,  as  "  The  Pleasures  of  Memory "  shows  his  mind  at  , 
the  age  of  twenty-nine.  The  "Epistle  to  a  Friend" 
describes  his  views  of  life  and  his  feelings  on  Art,  on 
Literature,  and  on  Society,  as  one  who  valued  cheap 
pleasures,  who  had  lived  out  of  town,  and  was  separated 
from  London's  round  of  gayety  and  glitter.'  Readers  of 
my  account  of  Rogers's  early  days  will  have  no  difficulty 
in  understanding  the  truth  of  this  statement.  I  have 
previously  said  that  there  was  a  struggle  in  his  own 
mind  which  he  turned  into  poetry.  This  praise  of 
country  life  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  dweller  in  the 
town  is  an  old  theme.  So  Horace  wrote  to  Fuscus  and 
Petrarch  to  Colonna.  Dr.  Aikin,  as  S.  Sharpe  points  out, 
had  just  translated  the  'Epistle  of  Frascatorius '  in  praise 
of  a  country  life.  It  is  the  object  of  '  An  Epistle  to  a 
Friend.'    Yet  the  life  at  Stoke  Newington  had  scarcely 


HIS   'EPISTLE  TO  A  FRIEND/  309 

been  country  life.  It  was  life  on  the  verge  of  London, 
with  many  opportunities  of  mingling  in  the  whirl. 
Eogers  had  seen  true  country  life,  such,  for  example,  as 
Gilpin  lived  it  at  Vicar's  Hill,  only  as  a  spectator,  or  at 
the  very  most  as  a  visitor,  but  that  may  only  make  his 
praise  of  it  the  more  sincere.  He  had  not  failed  to  read 
Cowper,  the  true  poet  of  country  life,  and  he  could  not 
read  him  without  feeling  a  profound  sense  of  the  quiet 
which  a  close  and  constant  communion  with  Nature 
brings   into   the    mind.    He   appreciated   what    Cowper 

calls  — 

*  an  unambitious  mind,  content 
In  the  low  vale  of  life ;  * 

yet  said  to  his  soul  — 

*  Be  thine  to  blend  —  nor  thine  a  vulgar  aim  — 
Repose  with  dignity ;  with  Quiet  fame.' 

There  is  a  good  deal  in  the  poem  to  indicate  what  his 
early  home  had  been.    The  partial  pencil,  which,  as  he 

says,  must  — 

'  love  to  dwell 
On  the  home  prospects  of  my  hermit  cell/ 

needed  the  guidance  of  the  poet's  fancy,  though  he  prob- 
ably drew  the  picture  from  recollections  of  Gilpin's  par- 
sonage at  Vicar's  Hill.  But  the  library  demanded  no 
flight  of  imagination.  It  is  the  very  place  where  on 
many  an  evening  he  had  sat  amid  the  studious  silence  of 
brothers  and  sisters,  reading  ancient  books  and  dreaming 
inspiring  dreams. 

*  Selected  shelves  shall  claim  thy  studious  hours ; 
There  shall  thy  ranging  mind  be  fed  on  flowers !  ^ 

1  Rogers's  note  on  this  Hne  is  as  follows:  — 

.  .  .  apis  MatinaB 
More  modoque 
Grata  carpeutis  thyma.  —  Hor. 


310  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

There,  while  the  shaded  lamp's  mild  lustre  streams, 
Read  ancient  books  or  dream  inspiring  dreams ; 
And,  when  a  sage's  bust  arrests  thee  there. 
Pause,  and  his  features  with  his  thoughts  compare. 
—  Ah,  most  that  art  my  grateful  rapture  calls, 
Which  breathes  a  soul  into  the  silent  walls  ; 
Which  gathers  round  the  Wise  of  every  Tongue, 
All  on  whose  words  departed  nations  hung 
Still  prompt  to  charm  with  many  a  converse  sweet ; 
Guides  in  the  world,  companions  in  retreat.' 

There  are  other  home  touches.     He  had  spoken  in  'The 
Pleasures  of  Memory  '  of  the  family  portraits  — 

*  Those  once  loved  forms  still  breathing  through  their  dust. 
Still  from  the  frame  in  mould  gigantic  cast. 
Starting  to  life  —  all  whisper  of  the  past.' 

In  the  new  poem  the  thought  is  again  taken  up  and 
further  expanded :  — 

But  could  thine  erring  friend  so  long  forget 
(Sweet  source  of  pensive  joy  and  fond  regret) 
That  here  its  warmest  hues  the  pencil  flings, 
Lo,  here  the  lost  restores,  the  absent  brings ; 
And  still  the  Few  best  loved  and  most  revered 
Rise  round  the  board  their  social  smile  endeared.' 

His  nephew  points  out  that  whereas  in  the  earlier 
poem  the  family  portraits  are  the  only  works  of  art  spo- 
ken of,  and  were  '  almost  the  only  works  of  art  known 
in  his  father's  house,'  in  the  later  poem  we  find  that  he 
'  had  gained  a  knowledge  and  love  of  art  of  the  highest 
class,  and  understood  the  beauties  of  Greek  sculpture 
and  Italian  painting.'  He  had  imbibed  this  love  of  art, 
as  has  been  already  said,  from  his  sister's  husband,  Sut- 
ton Sharpe,  but  he  had  not  yet  dreamed  of  indulging  it 
as  a  rich  man  may.  The  villa  in  the  '  Epistle '  is  a  small 
country  house,  plainly  and  economically  furnished. 


HIS   'EPISTLE  TO   A  FRIEND.'  311 

*  Here  no  state  chambers  in  long  line  unfold, 
Bright  with  broad  mirrors,  rough  with  fretted  gold ; 
Yet  modest  ornament,  with  use  combined, 
Attracts  the  eye,  to  exercise  the  mind  ! 
Small  change  of  scene,  small  space  his  home  requires, 
Who  leads  a  life  of  satisfied  desires.' 

The  very  object  of  the  ^Epistle/  as  he  says  in  his 
'  Preface,'  is  to  show  how  little  True  Taste  requires  to 
secure  ^  not  only  the  comforts,  but  even  the  elegancies  of 
life.'  '  True  Taste,'  he  says,  '  is  an  excellent  Economist. 
She  confines  her  choice  to  few  objects,  and  delights  in 
producing  great  effects  by  small  means ;  while  False 
Taste  is  forever  sighing  for  the  new  and  rare,  and  re- 
minds us,  in  her  works,  of  the  Scholar  of  Apelles,  who 
not  being  able  to  paint  his  Helen  beautiful,  determined 
to  make  her  fine.'  Hence,  in  the  imaginary  villa,  where 
the  aim  was  to  blend  — 

*  Repose  with  dignity ;  with  Quiet  fame,* 

a  severe  economy  reigned. 

*  What  th'o'  no  marble  breathes,  no  canvas  glows 
From  every  point  a  ray  of  genius  flows. 
Be  mine  to  bless  the  more  mechanic  skill 
That  stamps,  renews,  and  multiplies  at  will ; 
And  cheaply  circulates,  thro'  distant  climes, 
The  fairest  relics  of  the  purest  times. 
Here  from  the  mould  to  conscious  being  start 
Those  finer  forms,  the  miracles  of  art ; 
Here  chosen  gems,  imprest  on  sulphur,  shine. 
That  slept  for  ages  in  a  second  mine  ; 
And  here  the  faithful  graver  dares  to  trace 
A  Michael's  grandeur  and  a  Raphael's  grace  I 
Thy  gallery,  Florence,  gilds  my  humble  walls; 
And  my  low  roof  the  Vatican  recalls  !  * 

In  pursuance  of  his  habit  of  taking  counsel  with  his 
friends  on  his  works  before  they  were  published,  Rogers 


312  EARLY  LIFE  OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

sent  the  unfinished  manuscript  of  this  poem  to  Dr. 
Joseph  Warton,^  and  afterwards  in  its  completed  state 
to  the  Kev.  William  Gilpin.  Dr.  Warton  returned  it 
with  the  following  letter  ;  — 


Dr.  J,  Warton  to  Samuel  Rogers, 

*  April  9,  1797. 

'  My  dear  Sir,  —  I  should  ill  deserve  the  friendship  I 
hope  to  cultivate  with  you  if  I  wrote  you  a  letter  of 
mere  compliment  on  the  poem  you  have  so  obligingly 
sent  to  me.  I  must  assure  you,  with  strict  truth,  that 
I  like  it  much.  There  is  in  it  uncommon  elegance  and 
simplicity  both  of  style  and  sentiment,  and  the  notes 
are  very  pertinent  and  proper.  It  is  more  to  show  you 
that  I  have  read  it  with  attention  than  to  wish  you  to 
alter  a  word  or  two,  that  I  venture  to  carp  a  little  at  the 
following  words  :  Page  1,  "  unvalued  hours,"  "  ambush  ^d 
gate,"  a  good  image  certainly,  but  the  word  seems  harsh.^ 
Page  7,  "  Fountain  ^iw^s."  ^  Page  8,  "  ivoo  dreams,"  why 
not  wait  ?  9,  "  unfelt"  the  idea  is  excellent,  and  I  cannot 
suggest  another  word,  yet  doubt  of  unfelt.  I  lay  no  sort 
of  stress  on  these  seeming  blemishes,  nor  think  them  of 
much  consequence.  I  cannot  forbear  adding  that  I  am 
extremely  struck  with  the  concluding  lines  as  well  as 
with  the  Plan  and  Design  of  the  whole,  and  hope  you 
will  finish  it  immediately.     Own,  my  dear  sir,  that   I 

1  "Warton  had  just  then  finished  his  edition  of  Pope,  on  which  it  is 
said  he  had  been  engaged  for  sixteen  years.  He  was  in  his  old  aj^e. 
He  had  resigned  the  head  mastership  of  Winchester  School  in  1793,  and 
was  living  at  Wickham,  of  which  parish  he  was  rector,  where  he  died  in 
February,  1800. 

2  It  now  reads  *  the  sheltered  gate.' 

2  There  is  now  no  such  expression  in  the  poem.     The  line  is  — 
'That  here  its  warmest  hues  the  pencil  flings.' 


THE  REV.   WILLIAM  GILPIN.  313 

have  treated  you  with  the  freedom  you  are  pleased  to 
desire,  and  believe  me, 

*  Very  faithfully  and  sincerely  yours, 

*J.  Wabton/ 

Rogers  did  right  in  retaining  both  the  *  unvalued  hours ' 
and  the  ^unfelt  current.'     The  latter  is   compared  to 

life  — 

*  which  still  as  we  survey, 
Seems  motioiiless,  yet  ever  glides  away !  * 

Mr.  Gilpin's  criticisms  were  more  important  than 
those  of  Dr.  Warton,  and  more  influential.  As  Rogers 
had  spent  his  own  life  chiefly  in  the  immediate  neigh- 
borhood of  London,  he  probably  felt  some  diffidence  in 
describing  country  life,  and  passing  a  eulogy  upon  it  with- 
out taking  counsel  of  some  authority.  He  therefore 
sent  the  manuscript  of  the  ^  Epistle  '  to  the  Rev.  William 
Gilpin,  inviting  him  to  make  free  remarks  and  criticisms 
upon  it.  Mr.  Gilpin,  like  Dr.  Warton,  was  then  drawing 
towards  the  close  of  a  lengthened  life.  He  was  uni- 
versally known  as  the  great  authority  on  Picturesque 
Beauty.  Rogers  has  already  described  him  in  his  diary 
of  a  journey  in  the  south  of  England  in  1792.  He 
speaks  there  of  ^Mr.  Gilpin's  celebrated  view.'  Mr. 
Gilpin  was  a  lineal  descendant  of  Bernard  Gilpin,  '  the 
Northern  Apostle,'  whose  life  he  wrote  and  published  ten 
years  before  Rogers  was  born.  He  had  long  been  known 
as  a  faithful  country  clergyman  and  a  writer  of  religions 
and  biographical  books  when,  in  1790,  he  published  his 
*  Observations  on  Picturesque  Beauty.'  A  series  of 
works  from  his  pen  on  the  same  subject  followed  in 
rapid  succession,  and  before  the  close  of  the  century 
Mr.  Gilpin  had  been  universally  acknowledged  as  the 
great  modern  authority  on  the  Picturesque.  In  Mr. 
Green's  pleasant  *  Diary  of  a  Lover  of  Literature '  there 
is  a  glimpse  of  his  parsonage  in  1798  which  is  in  har- 


314  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

mony  with  the  sketch  of  the  'Villa'  in  Eogers's  poem. 
*  Crossed  the  river  by  a  causeway,  and  pursued  its 
course  by  an  agreeable  walk  along  its  banks  up  to 
Boldre,  and  returning  by  the  upper  road,  struck  down 
into  a  woody  dell  at  the  back  of  Vicar's  Hill,  Mr.  Gil- 
pin's parsonage,  the  object  of  our  pilgrimage  ;  shrouded, 
together  with  its  gardens,  in  thick  foliage.  Contem- 
plated, with  much  interest,  the  residence  of  a  gentleman 
by  whose  pen  and  by  whose  pencil  I  have  been  almost 
equally  delighted,  and  who,  with  an  originality  that  al- 
most always  accompanies  true  genius,  may  be  considered 
as  having  opened  a  new  sense  of  enjoyment  in  survey- 
ing the  works  of  Nature.'  It  is  more  than  likely  that 
Bogers  in  writing  the  '  Epistle  '  had  Mr.  Gilpin  and  his 
parsonage,  with  the  forest  scenery  around  it,  present  to 
his  memory.  He  had  been  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
he  had  written  a  diary  of  his  visit,  just  as  he  was  be- 
ginning to  write  the  poem;  and  he  probably  sent  the 
manuscript  to  Mr.  Gilpin  because  of  his  personal  con- 
nection with  it.  Mr.  Gilpin's  letter,  in  sending  it  back, 
is  interesting  in  itself,  and  is  still  more  so  as  indicating 
Rogers's  willingness  to  take  the  advice  of  so  experienced 
an  observer  of  Nature. 

Bev.  W.  Gilpin  to  Samuel  Bogers. 

'Vicar's  Hill,  July  7, 1797. 

*  Dear  Sib,  —  I  have  read  your  little  poem  two  or  three 
times  over,  with  great  pleasure :  I  should  say  with  in- 
creased pleasure,  for  that  is  the  truth.  I  have  seldom 
met  with,  in  so  short  a  space,  so  many  beautiful  lines. 
But  though  you  check  criticism  in  a  printed  work,  it  is 
expected  you  should  treat  a  manuscript  with  more  free- 
dom. I  '11  tell  you,  therefore,  frankly,  all  that  occurred 
to  me. 

'With  regard  to  the  whole,  you  seem  to  me  (what 


GILPIN'S  CRITICISM  OF  THE   'EPISTLE.'         315 

is  certainly  a  fault,  if  it  be  one,  on  the  better  side)  too 
concise.  I  think  your  subject  would  not  only  have 
allowed  more,  but  disappoints  us  in  not  having  more, 
—  particularly  in  the  description  of  the  cottage  and  the 
library.  In  describing  your  cottage,  instead  of  alluring 
us  by  its  near  and  distant  scenery,  you  give  us  only  a 
view  of  the  pales  and  footpath.  If  it  be  a  picture  taken 
from  the  life,  and  have  no  distant  scenery,  you  might 
perhaps  (if  you  did  not  choose  to  raise  the  idea,  by 
telling  us  what  it  had  not)  give  us  a  few  reflections  on 
the  advantages  of  a  cottage  entirely  sequestered.  I 
think,  too,  you  might  have  dwelt  a  little  more  on  the 
worthies  that  adorn  the  study ;  and  as  a  poet  might  have 
specified  a  few  poets.  A  friend  told  me,  the  other  day,  he 
had  paid  a  visit  to  Lord  Muncaster  in  the  north ;  and  that 
he  had  adorned,  or  intended  to  adorn,  a  room  with  one  of 
the  chief  worthies  of  every  profession.  I  thought  the 
idea  a  pleasing  one.  Lastly,  I  was  not  quite  pleased  with 
the  conclusion  of  your  poem.  I  thought  it  might  have 
ended  better  with  a  few  pertinent  moral  reflections. 

*  So  much  for  the  whole.  With  regard  to  the  parts, 
I  have  not  much  to  say.  Most  of  the  lines,  I  think, 
are  unexceptionably  beautiful.  Point  out  the  green  lane 
appears  to  me  rather  prosaic ;  and  I  do  not  think  you 
have  chosen  picturesque  figures  to  adorn  your  footpath. 
The  panniered  ass  I  allow.  But  the  pedler  is  injured  by 
his  profession.  The  satchelled  schoolboy  is  neither  a 
novel  nor  a  pleasing  idea.  The  red-hooded  maid  is  less 
so:  and  the  cry  of  cresses  has  too  much  of  London  in  it. 
Perhaps  a  man  of  studious  hours  would  not  be  contented 
to  feed  on  flowers,  if  he  were  in  a  place,  as  I  suppose  he 
was,  which  afforded  more  solid  nutHment.  Some  of  the 
lines,  too,  on  the  ice-house  I  think  are  rather  too  heroic. 

*  But  now,  my  dear  sir,  I  must  inform  you  that  Mason 
used  to  tell  me  I  was  among  the  worst  poetical  critics 
he  consulted;  and  I  believe  he  was  very  right.     But 


316  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

as  it  is  not  my  end  at  present  to  display  my  critical  abili- 
ties, but  to  show  my  sincerity,  I  have  no  doubt  but  your 
candor  will  accept  what  I  have  said  in  good  part ;  and 
that  you  will  believe  me  to  be  on  this,  and  every  other 
occasion, 

*  Your  very  sincere  and  most  obedt.  humble  servant, 

^WiLL.  Gilpin.' 

Some  of  the  lines  and  expressions  here  objected  to 
did  not  appear  in  the  published  poem,  and  some  of 
the  omissions  noted  are  supplied.  There  is  now  the 
full  recognition  of  distant  scenery  which  Mr.  Gilpin 
suggests  — 

'  Far  to  the  south  a  mountain  vale  retires, 
Rich  in  its  groves,  and  glens,  and  village  spires, 
Its  upland  lawns,  and  cliffs  with  foliage  hung, 
Its  wizard  stream,  nor  nameless  nor  unsung. 
And  through  the  various  year,  the  various  day, 
What  scenes  of  glory  burst  and  melt  away  1  * 

But  there  is  no  pedler  now  in  the  poem,  no  satchelled 
schoolboy,  the  red-hooded  maid  becomes  ^  in  her  kerchief 
blue,  the  cottage  maid ; '  and  the  cry  of  cresses  —  which 
as  Mr.  Gilpin  truly  says  has  too  much  of  London  in  it 
—  has  given  place  to  the  ^brimming  pitcher  from  the 
shadowy  glade.'  The  lines  about  the  ice-house  were  re- 
tained in  the  earlier  editions,  but  they  were  afterwards 
excised  and  placed  in  the  notes,  and  every  reader  will 
agree  with  Mr.  Gilpin's  criticism  that  they  '  are  rather 
too  heroic'  When  the  poem  had  been  published  it  was 
sent  to  Mr.  Gilpin,  who  returned  the  following  letter  — 

Bev,   William  Gilpin  to  Samuel  Rogers, 

Vicar's  Hill,  Ap.  16,  1798. 
'  Dear  Sir,  —  At  the  time  I  received  your  first  letter, 
and  long  after,  I  was  so  ill  that  few  things  in  any  degree 
attracted  my  attention.    I  was  so  ill  that,  to  tell  you  the 


LETTER  FROM  MR.  GILPIN.  317 

truth,  I  was  not  overjoyed  at  the  idea  of  having  all  the 
suffering  I  had  undergone,  or  something  like  it,  to  under- 
go again  at  some  future  period.  It  hath  pleased  God, 
however,  to  give  me  a  wonderful  restoration,  which  I 
should  wish  to  return  with  a  greater  degree  of  religious 
gratitude  than  I  fear  the  confirmed  habits  of  old  age  will 
in  general  allow.  I  am  still,  however,  far  from  being 
well ;  though  I  am  as  well  as  I  ever  expect  to  be,  un- 
less, on  the  return  of  the  zephyrs  and  swallows  I  may 
now  and  then  perhaps  be  enabled  to  breathe  a  little  more 
freely. 

'Having  thus  talked  of  myself  through  a  page,  it  is 
now  time  to  come  to  your  villa,  for  the  sight  of  which  I 
am  much  obliged  to  you.  I  entered  your  gate  impressed 
with  those  just  sentiments  which  you  had  so  justly 
raised.  I  admired  the  view  from  your  windows  —  I 
thought  you  had  collected  your  prints  with  great  judg- 
ment. Many  of  your  sulphur-gems  I  had  never  seen 
before.  Your  portraits  and  books  I  thought  the  hap- 
piest appendages  of  the  place.  I  then  sat  down  with 
you  to  your  elegant  closet-supper.  Of  all  kinds  of  food, 
the  dapes  inemptce  please  me  most :  and,  as  it  fortunately 
happened  I  am  now  ordered  to  drink  wine  (which  I  al- 
most never  before  tasted),  I  drank  two  bumpers  of  your 
excellent  Falernian.  In  short,  you  have  entertained  me 
like  a  prince,  and  I  once  more  return  you  many  thanks. 
I  must  not  forget  that,  as  I  left  your  villa,  I  met  a 
bride  going  to  church,  whose  beautiful  simplicity  and 
varied  sensibilities  were  very  interesting.  "  There,"  said 
I,  "is  Nature  in  its  pleasing  innocence;"  and  I  could 
not  help  thinking  what  a  happy  subject  it  would  have 
been  for  you.  We  painters  very  sparingly,  if  ever,  in- 
troduce the  mixed  passions  into  the  same  face ;  but  you 
would  have  had  the  advantage  of  us,  and  might  have 
introduced  a  thousand  varieties  of  delicate  emotions  al- 
most at  once. 


318  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

'  Cadell  has  in  hand  one  of  my  books  of  picturesque 
travels.  I  sell  him  the  copy,  tho'  our  bargain  is  not  yet 
struck.  The  money  is  to  be  funded,  as  the  beginning  of 
a  fund  for  the  posthumous  use  of  my  school ;  so  that 
they  who  do  not  purchase  from  a  motive  of  choice  may 
please  themselves  with  purchasing  from  a  motive  of 
charity.  With  Mrs.  G.'s  best  respects, 
*  Believe  me,  dear  Sir, 

*  Very  sincerely  and  cordially  yours, 

^WiLL  Gilpin.' 

The  bride  whom  Gilpin  met  going  to  church  was  in 
Rogers's  volume  in  the  short  poem,  ^  To  a  Friend  on  his 
Marriage.'  It  is  dated  1798.  There  were  two  other  short 
poems  in  the  volume :  the  lines  ^  To  a  Gnat,'  and  the  five 
verses,  written  in  1797,  entitled  *  A  Farewell.' 

It  might,  perhaps,  not  be  altogether  impossible  to 
construct  out  of  the  slight  materials  furnished  by  these 
two  poems  —  the  *  Farewell '  and  the  '  Lines  to  a  Friend 
on  his  Marriage '  —  taken  together  with  the  hint  in  his 
letter  to  his  friend  Eichard  Sharp,^  a  romantic  episode 
in  Rogers's  life.  But  beyond  those  vague  hints  and  the 
story  told  by  the  ^  Edinburgh  Review '  ^  there  are  no  fur- 
ther traces  of  his  having  really  experienced  the  feelings 
the  *  Farewell'  expresses.  It  is  only  the  most  prosaic 
criticism  which  essays  to  trace  the  events  of  a  man's  life 
in  his  imaginative  writings.  One  of  the  chief  marks  of 
the  true  poet  is  the  possession  of  the  power  of  realizing 
situations  in  which  he  was  never  personally  placed,  and 
of  giving  expression  to  feelings  which  he  never  seriously 
experienced.  It  has  not  been  proved  that  Shakspeare's 
mental  history  is  to  be  found,  as  some  tell  us,  in  his 
sonnets ;  nor  that  Sidney,  though  he  looked  into  his 
heart  and  wrote,  really  passed  through  all  the  feelings 
so  exquisitely  described  in  his  *Astrophel  and  Stella' 

1  Chap.  X.  p.  302.  «  pgge  299. 


A  BOOK  BY  MR.  GILPIN.  319 

sonnets.    It  was  probably  never  literally  true  of  him 

that,  — 

*  the  race 
Of  all  my  thoughts  had  neither  stop  nor  start. 
But  only  Stella's  eyes  and  Stella's  heart ; ' 

nor  of  his  friend  Fulke  Greville  that  he  wrote  in 
'Caelica'  the  romance  of  his  own  life.  There  is,  of 
course,  no  such  passion  in  Eogers's  few  lines  as  these  great 
Elizabethan  writers  express.  It  is  only  the  imaginative 
experience  which  is  the  same,  and  that  is  the  essence  of 
such  poetry.  He  was  never  engaged  to  be  married,  and 
there  is  no  evidence  that  he  ever  made  any  woman  an 
offer  of  marriage.^  The  nearest  approach,  in  any  of  his 
letters,  to  the  utterance  of  any  feeling  of  disappoint- 
ment is  in  those  from  Margate  and  Brighton  already 
quoted ;  and  it  is  just  worthy  of  notice  that  the  last  of 
these  was  written  in  the  same  year  as  the  *  Farewell.' 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  however,  if  some  of  his 
friends  suspected  that  these  little  poems  had  an  autobio- 
graphic character.  The  Eev.  William  Gilpin  expresses 
this  suspicion  in  a  very  characteristic  letter.  He  had 
returned  the  compliment  Eogers  had  paid  him  in  con- 
sulting him  about  the  *  Epistle  to  a  Friend,'  by  sending 
to  Kogers  the  manuscript  of  a  work  on  North  Wales 
for  his  criticism  and  remarks.  Eogers  kept  it  so  long 
that  Gilpin  became  anxious  about  it  and  wrote  to  in- 
quire whether  he  had  asked  his  friend,  after  reading  it, 
to  send  it  to  Cadell  and  Davies.  Eogers,  whom  Gilpin 
had  described  as  '  such  an  ubiquitarian  that  I  know  not 
where  to  find  you '  wrote  from  Exmouth  apologizing  for 
the  delay,  and  promising  to  send  the  manuscript  forth- 
with.    Mr.  Gilpin  then  sent  him  the  following  letter : 

1  I  have  already  discussed  the  ridiculous  statement  of  Lady  Mor- 
fran  with  respect  to  Cecilia  Thrale,  which  is  exactly  on  a  par  with  her 
hint  as  to  a  similar  offer  to  her  niece  in  the  days  when  Rogers's  memory 
had  failed  him. 


320  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Bev,   William  Gilpin  to  Samuel  Rogers. 

'Vicar's  Hill,  Nov.  29,  1799. 

^I  hope,  my  dear  sir,  you  read  my  letter  in  the 
same  honest,  sincere  spirit  in  which  it  was  written.  I 
certainly  neither  wanted  my  papers,  nor  in  the  least 
doubted  your  care.  But  I  had  entirely  forgotten  whether 
I  had  desired  you  to  leave  them  at  any  place,  and  under 
that  forgetfulness  might  have  suffered  them  to  lie  I 
knew  not  where,  nor  how  long.  You  gratified  me  much 
with  what  you  said  of  them ;  but  I  should  have  been 
more  gratified  if  you  had  made  any  remarks  that  would 
have  led  to  amendment.  I  shall,  however,  I  doubt  not, 
when  I  receive  the  papers,  find  a  few  remarks  bundled 
up  with  them.  If  not,  do  not  again  hypocritically  call 
me  friend.  It  has  always  been  my  chief  endeavor,  in 
all  my  picturesque  exhibitions,  to  bring  the  objects  I 
describe,  as  much  as  I  can,  before  the  eye  of  my  reader ; 
remembering  our  old  friend's  remark  that  things  brought 
before  the  eye  affect  us  more  than  things  only  described. 
How  far  I  have  succeeded  /am  not  the  person  to  judge. 
There  is,  I  think,  another  great  criterion  of  excellence  in 
works  of  fancy ;  and  that  is  the  power  of  exciting  feel- 
ings. But  this  belongs  rather  to  animate  than  inanimate 
objects.  Gray's  "Elegy"  will  hQ  felt  when  Dr.  John- 
son's cold  criticisms  on  words  and  syllables  are  neglected. 
I  have  often  read  with  much  pleasure,  among  other 
pieces  which  pleased  me,  a  little  poem  on  the  "  Marriage 
of  a  Friend."  It  is  wonderfully  wrought  up  with  that 
sort  of  sensibility  which  excites  feeling ;  and  to  me,  who 
have  so  often,  as  my  duty  led,  seen  it  realized,  it  appears 
an  admirable  portrait  from  the  life.  It  is  followed  so 
immediately  by  another  poem,  called  the  "Farewell" 
(which  also  I  like  much),  that  I  cannot  help  thinking 
there  is  some   connection   between  them.     If  you   are 


THE  'EPISTLE*   SHARPLY  CRITICISED.  321 

acquainted  with  the  author  perhaps  you  can  tell  me 
whether  any  history  belongs  to  them.  Bj  the  way,  I 
think  the  Marriage  Service  in  our  Liturgy  is  not  quite 
so  delicate  as  it  might  be.  I  see  no  reason  for  entering 
so  minutely  into  the  causes  of  matrimony  :  and  I  think 
I  should  rather  have  spared  the  young  lady  her  hesitat- 
ing speech.  Her  coming  to  the  altar  with  her  friends 
and  signing  her  name  seem  sufficient.  But  the  other 
parts  of  the  Service  (except  one  prayer)  I  think  ex- 
tremely fine.  You  write  cheerfully,  and  I  hope  you  are 
well ;  but  I  want  to  know  why  you  have  been  sent  to 
Exmouth  ;  and  your  saying  so  significantly  that  you  are 
sorry  your  sister  is  not  with  you  seems  to  have  a  mean- 
ing. Let  me  hear.  With  regard  to  myself,  a  degree  of 
health  is  a  blessing  at  the  age  of  76,  and  I  have  great 
reason  to  bless  God  for  it.  Coughs  and  a  few  other  in- 
firmities summon  me  to  a  change,  which  I  would  gladly 
persuade  myself  I  do  not  regret.  God  bless  you  ! 
'  And  believe  me  to  be 

'  Your  affect,  and  sincere 

^  Will  Gilpin. 
'  Mrs.  G.'s  best  respects.' 

'  An  Epistle  to  a  Friend '  was  published  in  the  spring 
of  1798,  a  year  and  a  half  before  the  above  letter  of 
Gilpin's  was  written.  It  had  occupied  Rogers,  with  the 
notes,  half-a-dozen  years,  and  had  undergone,  as  these 
letters  show,  much  patient  elaboration  and  critical  re- 
view before  it  took  its  final  shape.  It  seems  to  have 
been  received  with  some  differences  of  opinion  among 
Rogers's  friends.  Soon  after  it  was  published  he  wrote 
to  Richard  Sharp  in  apparent  despair  :  — 

Samud  Rogers  to  Richard  Sharp. 

'    ^  My  dear  Friend,  —  I  am  in  a  peck  of  troubles.    My 
*'  Epistle  "  is  universally  found  fault  with  for  its  crnde- 

21 


322  EARLY  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

ness  and  obscurity.  Twiss  says  he  shall  try  to  read  it 
again,  not  having  Goldsmith  to  refer  to.  The  simile  of 
the  floating  beehives  was  lost  upon  him ;  and  as  to  the 
verses  to  Lady 's  daughter  they  are,  as  he  and  Par- 
sons agreed,  perfectly  unintelligible. 

'  What  am  I  to  do  ?  I  stand  still  in  horror,  and  dare 
not  advance  a  step.     Pray  console  your  unhappy  friend ! 

^P.  S.  —  I  shall  expect  you  on  Saturday  at  half-past 
four.' 

Richard  Sharp's  response  to  this  appeal  is  not  extant. 
The  simile  of  the  floating  beehives  is  in  the  following 
lines,  and  it  is  now  explained  in  a  note  to  be  ^  an  allusion 
to  the  floating  beehouse,  or  barge  laden  with  beehives, 
which  is  seen  in  some  parts  of  France  and  Piedmont.' 

*  So,  thro'  the  vales  of  Loire  the  beehives  glide, 
The  light  raft  dropping  with  the  silent  tide ; 
So,  till  the  laughing  scenes  are  lost  in  night, 
The  busy  people  wing  their  various  flight, 
Culling  unnumbered  sweets  from  nameless  flowers 
That  scent  the  vineyard  in  its  purple  hours.' 

The  note  not  only  makes  the  simile  perfectly  intelligible 
but  renders  it  impossible  for  the  dullest  not  to  see  its 
appropriateness  and  beauty.  The  note  to  the  verses  to 
Lady  Jersey's  daughter  Harriet  makes  them  also  intel- 
ligible by  simply  explaining  the  circumstances  in  which 
they  were  addressed  to  her.  The  '  Epistle '  fully  justifies 
in  its  present  shape  the  long  labor  spent  upon  it.  It  con- 
sists of  only  two  hundred  and  twenty-two  lines,  but  no 
reader  can  fail  to  perceive,  as  he  reads  it,  that  an  unusual 
number  of  the  lines  have  a  strangely  familiar  sound.  As 
I  said  of  *  The  Pleasures  of  Memory '  so,  to  a  larger  ex- 
tent, it  may  be  said  of  this  much  shorter  poem  that  it  has 
many  expressions  which  have  passed  into  literature  and 


QUOTABLE  PASSAGES  IN  THE  'EPISTLE.'   323 

have  become,  as  it  were,  familiar  forms  of  speech.  *The 
insect  tribes  of  human  kind,'  the  contrast  of  home's 
^simple  comforts  and  domestic  rites'  with  the  season's 
'  annual  round  of  glitter  and  perfume ; '  the  line  — 

*  Each  fleeting  charm  that  bids  the  landscape  hve ; ' 
the  couplet  — 

'  There  let  her  practise  from  herself  to  steal, 
And  look  the  happiness  she  does  not  feel ;  * 

and  other  lines  such  as  — 

*  Guides  in  the  world,  companions  in  retreat ;  * 


or  — 


The  cheap  amusements  of  a  mind  at  ease 


are  surely  most  felicitously  expressed,  and  have  lingered 
in  the  recollection  of  readers  and  writers  who  have  repro- 
duced them  without  remembering  their  origin,  *The 
clear  mirror  of  his  moral  page,'  and  — 

*  Scorned  the  false  lustre  of  licentious  thought,* 

are  happy  phrases  from  those  concluding  lines  which 
every  reader  will  admit  to  be  entirely  worthy  of  Dr. 
Warton's  praise. 

Like  his  other  poems  -An  Epistle  to  a  Friend'  was 
well  received  by  the  critics.  The  ^Monthly  Eeview' 
prided  itself  that  on  the  first  anonymous  appearance  of 
the  writer  it  did  justice  to  his  talents,  and  that  when 
after  a  considerable  interval  he  came  before  the  world 
again,  it  was  again  forward  to  pay  its  tribute  of  applause 
to  his  taste  and  genius.  The  'Epistle'  it  regarded  as 
*of  a  more  masculine  character,  without  falling  below 
his  other  compositions  in  elegance  or  in  feeling.  It  is 
at  once  correct  and  spirited,  classic  and  original.'  The 
reviewer  quotes  with  approval  some  original  and  happy 


324  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

epithets  :  ^  His  spangling  shower  when  frost  the  wizard 
flings;'  ^the  arrowy  North;'  'the  murmuring  market- 
place.' 

Mr.  Hayward  in  the  '  Edinburgh  Eeview,'  fifty-eight 
years  later,  speaks  of  the  description  of  winter  in  the 
'Epistle,'  as  'marked  by  the  same  delicate  fancy  which 
is  displayed  in  the  "Eape  of  the  Lock"  on  a  different 
class  of  phenomena : '  — 

*  When  Christmas  revels  in  a  world  of  snow, 
And  bids  her  berries  blush,  her  carols  flow : 
His  spangling  shower  when  Frost  the  wizard  flings ; 
Or,  borne  in  ether  blue,  on  viewless  wings, 
O'er  the  white  pane  his  silvery  foliage  weaves, 
And  gems  with  icicles  the  sheltering  eaves  ; 
—  Thy  muffled  friend  his  nectarine  wall  pursues.* 

Mr.  Hayward  adds  :  '  There  is  no  disputing  the  eye  for 
Nature  which  fixed  and  carried  off  the  image  of  the 
silvery  foliage  woven  on  the  white  pane.  At  one  of  his 
Sunday  breakfasts  Eogers  had  quoted  with  decided 
commendation  Leigh  Hunt's  couplet  on  a  fountain  (in 
Kimini)  — also  selected  by  Byron  as  one  of  the  most  po- 
etical descriptions  of  a  natural  object  he  was  acquainted 
with :  — 

"  Clear  and  compact,  till  at  its  height  o'errun 
It  shakes  its  loosening  silver  in  the  sun." 

"  I  give  my  vote,"  said  one  of  the  guests,  "  for  — 

*  O'er  the  white  pane  his  silvery  foliage  weaves ; ' " 

and  Rogers  looked  for  a  moment  as  if  he  were  about  to 
re-enact  Parr's  reception  of  the  flattering  visitor  from 
Birmingham.' 

In  the  admirable  and  appreciative  article  from  which 
this  criticism  and  its  illustrative  story  are  taken,  Mr. 
Hayward  speaks  of  the  poem,  as  a  whole,  'as  conveying 


HAYWARD'S  CRITICISM  OF  THE  'EPISTLE/     325 

after  the  manner  of  Horace  and  (in  parts)  of  Pope  the 
writer's  notions  of  social  comfort  and  happiness,  as  de- 
pendent upon,  or  influenced  by,  the  choice  of  residence, 
furniture,  books,  pictures,  and  companions, —  subjects  on 
all  of  which  he  was  admirably  qualified  to  speak.'  But  Mr. 
Hayward  and  those  to  whom,  like  Mrs.  Norton  and  Lady 
Dufferin,  he  applied  for  information,  were  in  absolute 
ignorance  of  the  circumstances  out  of  which  the  poem 
had  sprung,  and  of  the  training  which  had  so  admirably 
qualified  the  poet  to  speak  on  the  topics  he  introduces. 
He  interprets  Kogers's  feelings  in  those  early  days,  not 
by  the  struggle  which  called  them  forth,  of  which  he 
knew  nothing  and  suspected  nothing,  but  by  the  altered 
circumstances  of  Rogers's  later  life.  Knowing  him  for 
many  years  as  the  centre  of  the  most  brilliant  society  of 
the  time,  Mr.  Hayward  could  not  imagine  him  as  he  was 
when  the  poem  was  written,  standing  with  the  open  door 
before  him,  considering  for  a  moment  whether  it  was  best 
to  enter  and  mingle  with  the  crowd,  or  whether  he  should 
say  to  his  soul,  — 

*  Be  thine  to  meditate  a  humbler  flight, 
When  morning  fills  the  fields  with  rosy  light : 
Be  thine  to  blend  —  nor  thine  a  vulgar  aim  — 
Repose  with  dignity;  with  Quiet  fame.* 

His  actual  mental  attitude  was  probably  that  of  one 
who  was  conscious  that  he  should  go  forward,  yet  who 
cherished  an  unaffected  admiration  for  much  that  he 
should  leave  behind,  and  who  puts  on  permanent  record 
his  resolution  —  amid 

*  the  joyous  glare,  the  maddening  strife 
And  all  the  dull  impertinence  of  life  *  — 

to  keep  his  early  faith  in  '  simple  comforts  and  domestic 
rites.'  Mr.  Hayward,  however,  speaks  of  his  praise  of 
modesty,  simplicity,  and  retirement  as  being  made  ^  with 


326  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

about  the  same  amount  of  practical  earnestness  as  Grat- 
tan  when  he  declared  he  could  be  content  in  a  small  neat 
house  with  cold  meat,  bread,  and  beer  and  plenty  of 
claret/  Grattan  never  made  any  such  declaration.  The 
story  is  one  of  Eogers's  own,  and  is  told  in  the  '  Recol- 
lections : '  ^  *  What  a  slavery  is  office ! '  said  Grattan  in 
one  of  his  talks  with  Rogers,  at  Fredley  Farm,  at  Tun- 
bridge  Wells,  or  at  St.  James's  Place ;  '  to  be  subject  to 
the  whims  of  those  above  you,  and  the  persecutions  of 
those  beneath  you ;  to  dance  attendance  on  the  great ; 
to  be  no  longer  your  own  master.  No,  give  me  a  cot- 
tage and  a  crust  —  plain  fare  and  quiet,  and  small  beer 
and  — '  he  added,  lowering  his  voice  and  smiling  with  his 
usual  archness  —  ^  claret ! '  The  contrast  between  these 
two  versions  of  Grattan's  words  is  a  fair  illustration  of 
the  difference  between  Rogers's  stories  as  he  told  them 
himself,  and  the  same  stories  as  they  were  afterwards 
recounted  from  the  imperfect  memories  of  his  auditors. 
To  compare  this  expression  of  Grattan's  with  the  tone  of 
Rogers's  poem  is  absurd.  The  one  was  half  a  joke,  —  the 
other  was  the  expression  of  serious  thoughts.  Rogers 
had  not  dreamed,  as  yet,  of  the  exquisite  home  in  St. 
James's  Place  where  for  fifty  years  his  friends  saw  him, 
like  a  picture  in  its  appropriate  frame  and  placed  in  fit 
surroundings,  and  regarded  him  as  the  impersonated 
spirit  of  the  scene.  *  He  cultivated  art  as  yet '  —  says 
his  nephew  —  ^  only  as  a  student  and  with  economy.  He 
had  not  begun  to  form  his  own  valuable  collection;  and 
the  works  of  art  therein  recommended  to  our  purchase 
are  not  pictures  and  marbles,  but  copies  from  the  antique 
in  plaster  and  sulphur,  and  engravings  after  Italian 
painters.'  He  was,  in  fact,  just  setting  out  on  his  career 
of  art  patronage  and  social  success.  He  had  two  homes, 
—  one  at  Stoke  Newington,  the  other  in  chambers  in 
Paper  Buildings,  and  he  was  gradually  deciding  between 
1  Pasre  104,  second  edition. 


LEAVING   THE   OLD   HOME.  327 

them.  The  last  lines  of  the  ^  Epistle '  are  a  record  of  his 
experience  in  the  five  years  before  it  was  published  :  — 

*  One  fair  asylum  from  the  world  he  knew, 
Who  boasts  of  more  (believe  the  serious  strain) 
Sighs  for  a  home,  and  sighs,  alas  !  in  vain. 
Through  each  he  roves,  the  tenant  of  a  day. 
And,  with  the  swallow,  wings  the  year  away.' 

About  this  period  he  wrote  in  his  Commonplace  Book  the 
sentence  which  was  incorporated  in  his  last  note  to  the 
poem  :  *  The  master  of  many  houses  has  no  home.' 

The  decision  was  probably  taken  during  or  after  his 
autumn  visit  to  Brighton  and  the  formation  of  his  friend- 
ship with  Lady  Jersey  in  1797.  In  the  following  June, 
after  the  ^  Epistle '  had  been  published  in  the  spring,  he 
finally  gave  up  the  home  on  Newington  Green,  and  lived 
in  his  chambers,  alone.  His  brother  Henry  had  already 
taken  a  house  at  Highbury  Terrace,  with  his  sister  Sarah  ; 
and  his  sister  Maria  Sharpe,  who  had  taken  her  children 
there  for  a  summer  holiday  in  1798,  speaks  of  Highbury 
Terrace  at  that  time  as  *  quite  a  gay  place,  more  like  the 
seaside  than  anything  else.'  The  old  house  at  Newing- 
ton  Green  was  put  into  the  hands  of  an  auctioneer  for 
sale,  and  Rogers's  fastidious  taste  was  greatly  annoyed 
by  the  advertised  description  of  the  place.  'I  should 
never  have  known  it,'  writes  Maria  Sharpe  to  her  sister 
Sarah,  <  if  the  place  had  not  been  mentioned.  I  read  it 
to  Mr.  Sharpe  and  Catharine  without  their  at  all  making 
it  out.  1  am  sorry  they  have  dressed  an  old  friend  in 
borrowed  ornaments.'  In  these  letters  there  are  frequent 
glimpses  of  Sam,  as  he  is  always  called.  ^  His  room  is 
much  improved  since  you  saw  it,'  she  tells  her  sister  in 
May,  1797.  He  is  often  at  Sutton  Sharpe's ;  and  Flax- 
man  and  Opie  and  Stothard  are  spoken  of  with  Richard 
Sharp  and  the  Barbaulds,  the  Boddingtons,  and  the  fami- 
lies of  the  Towgoods  and  Mallets.     One  day  there  is  a 


328  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

party  at  Eichmond  to  which  Sam  has  invited  them.  He 
and  E.  Sharp,  who  is  present,  are  very  fond  of  Eichmond, 
but  E»  Sharp  monopolizes  the  poet,  and  Maria  complains 
that  he  deserted  them.  Another  time  she  remarks  to  her 
sister  Sarah:  'What  very  pretty  presents  he  makes  to 
you !  Is  it  not  well  to  be  the  single  sister  ? '  The  ques- 
tion is  asked  in  1800,  and  for  fifty  years  after  it  Miss 
Eogers  had  every  reason  to  answer  yes. 

It  was  Eogers's  custom  in  these  years  to  get  his  friends 
together  pretty  frequently  to  dinner  and  evening  parties 
in  his  chambers,  and  the  meal  or  refreshments  were  sent 
in  from  the  '  Mitre,'  —  still  a  well-known  tavern  in  a  court 
out  of  Fleet  Street.  Among  the  stories  he  told  in  later 
years  Mr.  Hayward  has  preserved  one  which  relates  to 
one  of  these  dinners.  Eogers  had  invited  Fox,  Sheridan, 
Erskine,  Perry  (of  the  '  Morning  Chronicle '),  and  other 
Whig  notables  to  dinner,  and  as  usual  had  ordered  it  at 
the  '  Mitre.'  These  dinners  usually  came  in  by  instal- 
ments,—  as  Sydney  Smith  reminds  us,  when,  arriving 
just  as  some  portion  of  the  repast  was  being  delivered, 
he  exclaimed :  '  I  knew  I  was  in  time,  for  though  the 
turtle  had  the  start  of  me  I  fairly  headed  the  turbot.' 
The  guests  on  this  occasion,  however,  had  the  start  of 
the  turtle.  The  dinner-hour  came,  the  guests  were  in  the 
drawing-room,  but  there  was  no  dinner.  *  I  quietly  stole 
out,'  said  Eogers,  '  and  hurried  to  the  "  Mitre."  "  What 
has  become  of  my  dinner  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Your  dinner,  sir  ? 
Your  dinner  is  for  to-morrow ! "  I  stood  aghast,  and  for 
a  moment  plans  of  suicidal  desperation  crossed  my  brain, 
when  the  tavern-keeper  relieved  me  from  ray  perplexity 
by  saying  that  he  had  so  many  dinners  on  hand  that  mine, 
if  ever  ordered,  had  escaped  his  recollection  altogether. 
"  Many  dinners  on  hand,  have  you  ?  Then  if  you  will 
send  me  the  best  dish  from  each  of  them  I  will  pay  you 
double ;  and  if  you  won't  you  shall  never  see  my  face 
again."     As  I  was  a  good  customer  he  chose  the  more 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  FOX.  329 

prudent  and  profitable  alternative,  and  after  an  hour's 
waiting  my  guests  were  seated  aud  served.'  ^  And  how 
did  the  dmuer  go  oft"  ?  '  '  Oh,  very  well !  They  got  a 
bad  dinner,  but  they  got  a  good  story  to  tell  against  me.' 

He  had  already  begun  to  make  those  notes  of  his  con- 
versations with  eminent  and  celebrated  men  which  gave 
so  much  pleasure  to  his  guests  in  later  years.  In  the 
charming  volume  of  '  Eecollections,'  edited  in  1859  by  his 
nephew  Mr.  William  Sharpe,  the  first  conversation  with 
Fox  which  is  recorded  took  place  on  the  19th  of  March, 
1796.  He  had  met  Fox  before,  but  this  time  he  seems 
to  have  engaged  in  conversation  with  the  great  states- 
man. The  first  occasion  illustrated  the  ^playfulness' 
which  Eogers  in  his  prefatory  note  attributes  to  Fox. 
The  latter  exhibits  —  to  quote  Eogers's  words  —  ^  his 
love  of  letters  and  his  good  nature  in  unbending  himself 
to  a  young  man.'  The  conversation  took  place  at  the 
dinner  table  of  William  Smith,  the  well-known  Unitarian 
member  for  Norwich,  and  the  champion  in  the  House  of 
Commons  of  the  rights  of  Dissenters  in  the  days  when 
the  Test  and  Corporation  Acts  and  other  oppressive 
measures  remained  unrepealed.  There  were  present, 
besides  Fox  and  Rogers,  Dr.  Parr,  George  Tierney,  John 
Courtenay,  Sir  Francis  Baring,  Dr.  Aikin  (the  eminent 
brother  of  Mrs.  Barbauld),  Mackintosh,  and  Sir  Philip 
Francis.  Sheridan  sent  an  excuse.  Rogers  dined  with 
Fox  again  at  Serjeant  Hey  wood's  on  the  10th  of  Decem- 
ber, 1796,  when  Lord  Derby,  Lord  Stanley,  Lord  Lauder- 
dale, Lambton  (the  member  for  Durham),  and  Brogden 
constituted  the  party.  On  another  day  he  puts  on  record 
his  meeting  Fox  in  June,  1798,  at  the  Park  Gate  at  Pens- 
hurst.  He  was  mounted  on  a  pony,  and  dressed  in  a 
fustian  shooting-jacket  and  a  white  hat.  Mrs.  Armstead 
was  in  a  whisky.  This  was  a  kind  of  light  carriage,  so 
called  because  it  was  built  for  rapid  motion,  and  whisked 
along.    Its  familiar  name  was  a  tim-whisky.     The  con- 


330  EARLY  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

versation  on  these  occasions  is  made  by  the  *  Recollec- 
tions' familiar  to  every  reader.  There  is  a  glimpse  of 
Fox  in  a  letter  from  Thomas  Erskine,  afterwards  Lord 
Erskine,  to  Eogers,  published  in  the  Notes  to  the  '  Rec- 
ollections '  (page  11).  It  is  dated  the  17th  of  July,  1798  : 
*I  called  yesterday  on  Eox  at  St.  Anne's,  and  found  him 
drawing  a  pond  to  please  an  Eton  boy,  a  son  of  the 
Bishop  of  Down.  I  told  him  he  was  committing  a  double 
crime,  killing  the  poor  fish  and  ruining  Coss,  —  for  Coss 
has  a  perpetual  holiday  there.  He  left  off,  and  we  had 
some  talk  on  the  times.  He  has  no  hope.'  There  is 
another  short  letter  from  Erskine  without  date,  but 
written  on  paper  bearing  the  water-mark  1799,  and  ad- 
dressed to  Rogers  at  Paper  Buildings.  It  shows  that  at 
this  period  Rogers  and  Erskine  had  not  yet  established 
the  close  intimacy  which  marked  their  later  years. 

Thomas  Erskine  to  Samuel  Rogers. 

*  Dear  Sir,  —  The  little,  foolish,  and  too  ill-natured 
epigram  which  I  gave  you  was  incorrect ;  it  should  have 
been  as  below  :  — 

"  Some  newspapers  to  blot  the  fame 
That  waits  on  Fox's  patriot  name, 

By  misreporting  damn  his  praise. 
But  then  in  far  more  bitter  spite 
Against  a  hapless  courtly  wight 

They  truly  print  what  M — d  says  1  '* 


Yours  ever, 


T.  E.' 


There  is  no  difficulty  in  identifying  the  name  of  the 
'courtly  wight.'  He  was  Sir  John  Mitford,  Attorney- 
General  in  1799,  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons 
in  1801,  and  afterwards  Lord  Redesdale.  The  epigram 
brings  out  one  of  the  methods  of  political  warfare  which 


POLITICAL  WARFARE   IN   1799.  331 

were  adopted  in  those  early  days  of  the  press,  but  which 
have  been  happily  altogether  outgrown.  One  of  the  hap- 
piest features  of  political  controversy  in  these  days  is 
the  fulness  and  fairness  with  which  the  chief  newspapers 
of  all  shades  of  politics  report  the  political  speeches  of 
their  leading  opponents.  In  these  dark  closing  years  of 
the  eighteenth  century  political  passion  ran  high  in  this 
country,  stirred  by  the  violent  movement  in  France.  It 
was  quite  common  to  accuse  prominent  politicians  of 
being  in  communication  with  the  enemy,  and  the  usual 
explanation  given  by  the  supporters  of  the  Government 
for  Fox's  opposition  to  the  war,  was,  that  he  was  in  the 
pay  of  France.  Walpole  in  one  of  his  letters  had  made  the 
accusation  against  Wilkes,  and  it  seems  to  have  become 
a  common  weapon  of  political  warfare.  Walpole  said 
that  he  was  as  sure  that  Wilkes  was  in  the  pay  of  France 
as  of  any  fact  he  knew;  and  there  were  a  thousand 
lesser  Walpoles  in  the  last  decade  of  the  eighteenth 
century  who  were  not  only  sure  of  it  with  respect  to 
Fox,  but  who  professed  to  know  the  exact  amount  he 
received,  the  time  it  was  paid,  and  the  persons  who 
conducted  the  transaction.  Writing  to  Lord  Webb  Sey- 
mour so  late  as  the  26th  of  December,  1805,  Francis 
Horner  says  :  ^  I  could  name  to  you  gentlemen  with  good 
coats  on,  and  good  sense  in  their  own  affairs,  who  believe 
that  Fox  did  actually  send  information  to  the  enemy 
in  America,  and  is  actually  in  the  pay  of  France.'  ^  In 
the  days  of  the  '  Anti-Jacobin '  ^  this  charge  was  con- 
stantly urged  against  the  journals  and  the  statesmen 
that  opposed  the  Government.  The  *  Anti-Jacobin  '  insin- 
uates it  against  the  *  Morning  Chronicle,'  which,  with 
the  ^  Morning  Post,'  were  the  leading  journals  of  *  Jaco- 
binism.'    The  spirit  of  the  time  when  Erskine  wrote  to 

^  Horner's  '  Memoirs  and  Correspondence,'  vol.  i.  p.  323. 
2  The  '  Anti-Jacobin '  issued  its  first  number  on  the  20th  November, 
1797,  and  the  last  —  the  36th  —  on  July  9th,  1798. 


332  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Kogers  that  Fox  had  no  hope,  is  forcibly  illustrated  by  an 
event  in  which  many  of  Eogers's  personal  friends,  and 
in  all  probability  Rogers  himself,  took  part ;  and  which 
may  have  tended  to  produce  the  despondency  Fox  felt 
in  that  gloomy  year.  There  was  a  great  gathering  at  the 
^  Crown  and  Anchor '  on  Fox's  birthday,  the  24th  of  Jan- 
uary, 1798.  Two  thousand  people  were  present,  among 
them  the  Duke  of  Bedford,  Lord  Lauderdale,  Lord 
Oxford,  Sheridan,  Tierney,  Erskine,  and  Home  Tooke. 
Lord  John  Kussell  ^  was  one  of  the  stewards,  and  pre- 
sided in  one  of  the  rooms.  Aftei:  the  health  of  Fox  had 
been  drunk,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  as  chairman,  gave 
several  other  toasts.  These  were :  *  The  Eights  of  the 
People ; '  *  Constitutional  Redress  of  the  Wrongs  of  the 
People ','  *  A  speedy  and  effectual  Eef orm  of  the  Eepre- 
sentation  of  the  People  in  Parliament ; '  '  The  Genuine 
Principles  of  the  British  Constitution; '  ^The  People  of 
Ireland :  may  they  be  speedily  restored  to  the  Blessings 
of  Law  and  Liberty ! '  ^The  Cause  of  Liberty  all  over  the 
World ; '  and  '  The  Freedom  of  the  Press,  and  Trial  by 
Jury.'  A  chronicler  of  the  time  says  that  the  seditious 
and  daring  tendency  of  these  toasts  had  not  passed  un- 
noticed. The  '  Anti-Jacobin '  which  published  a  caricature 
report  of  the  proceedings,  reminded  the  Duke  that,  under 
another  Sovereign  than  the  Sovereign  people,  '  he  now 
holds  the  lieutenancy  of  the  West  Eiding  of  the  County 
of  York  and  the  command  of  a  regiment  of  militia.' 
From  both  these  offices  the  Duke  was  immediately 
dismissed. 

The  dangers  of  the  times,  however,  came  more  imme- 
diately home  to  Eogers  and  his  friends  by  the  prosecu- 
tion of  the  Eev.  Gilbert  Wakefield  for  a  pamphlet  on  the 
Income  Tax,  in  reply  to  the  Bishop  of  Llandaff.  Wake- 
field had  been  a  friend  of  Eogers's  father,  who  speaks  of 

1  Afterwards  the  sixth  Duke  of  Bedford;  father  of  the  Lord  John 
Russell  of  the  Reform  Bill  era. 


I 


GILBERT  WAKEFIELD'S  PROSECUTION.         333 

him  in  a  letter  in  a  preceding  chapter.  He  had  come 
to  London  from  Nottingham  in  1790  to  undertake  the 
duties  of  the  classical  professorship  in  the  college  then 
just  established  at  Hackney,  of  which  Thomas  Eogers  was 
chairman.  He  failed  to  agree  with  his  colleagues,  and 
left  the  college  in  1791.  He  continued,  however,  to  be 
one  of  the  friends  of  the  Kogers  family,  and  was  regarded 
by  Samuel  Kogers  as  one  of  those  — 

*  Guides  of  my  life,  Instructors  of  my  youth, 
Who  first  unveiled  the  hallowed  form  of  truth ;  * 

whom  he  apostrophizes  in  the  first  part  of  '  The  Pleas- 
ures of  Memory.'  Gilbert  Wakefield's  pamphlet  was  as 
mild  as  the  toasts  at  the  Fox  dinner,  but  it  seems  to 
have  been  thought  that  the  time  had  come  for  the  pro- 
secution of  some  person  whose  position  would  make  his 
condemnation  strike  terror  into  others  ;  or,  as  Dr.  Aikin 
says  :  '  A  victim  to  the  liberty  of  the  press,  of  name  and 
character  to  inspire  a  wide  alarm,  was  really  desired.' 
Gilbert  Wakefield  was  therefore  selected  for  the  sacrifice, 
and  no  pains  was  spared  to  secure  his  conviction.  He 
was  not  attacked  at  once.  Johnson  and  Jordan,  the 
booksellers  who  sold  the  pamphlet,  were  first  tried,  and 
sentenced,  —  the  former  to  a  fine  of  fifty  pounds  and  six 
months'  imprisonment;  the  latter  to  a  year's  confine- 
ment. Mr.  Cuthell,  the  publisher,  was  also  punished; 
and  then  the  blow  fell  on  the  gentle  scholar  and  divine. 
He  was  tried,  found  guilty,  and  sentenced  to  two  years' 
imprisonment  in  Dorchester  jail.  This  fierce  blow  at 
freedom  of  discussion  created  almost  a  panic.  Gilbert 
Wakefield's  friends  did  all  that  could  be  done  to  modify 
the  rigor  of  his  confinement,  and  Fox  kept  up  with  him 
that  learned  correspondence  which  had  been  begun  in 
happier  circumstances,  and  which  was  afterwards  pub- 
lished. Many  of  the  Whigs  made  Wakefield's  prison 
cell  the  object  of  a  pious  pilgrimage  ;  and  Kogers  and 


334  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

his  sister  Sarah  were  among  them.  The  utmost  con- 
sideration was  shown  to  Wakefield  by  his  jailers,  but  the 
imprisonment  shortened  his  life,  and  he  died  less  than 
four  months  after  his  liberation  in  1801.  To  the  end  of 
his  life  Eogers  never  failed  to  speak  of  him  with  affec- 
tion and  regard,  and  of  his  prosecution  and  sentence  as 
infamous.  It  brought  home  in  the  strongest  way  to  him 
and  to  his  friends  the  full  nature  of  the  oppression 
which  they  held  to  justify  the  Whigs  for  seceding  for 
a  time  from  a  House  of  Commons  which  kept  such  a 
Government  in  power. 

In  his  ^  Recollections '  of  Fox,  Rogers  tells  the  story,  as 
repeated  by  Fox  in  1805,  of  an  apparently  discourteous 
reply  of  Dr.  Parr  to  Mackintosh.  The  same  story  is  also 
told  in  Mr.  Dyce's  book.  Mr.  Dyce  reports  Rogers  as 
saying  that  when  he  read  to  Parr  the  account  of 
O'Quigley's  death  —  who  had  been  hanged  on  Penenden 
Heath  for  a  traitorous  correspondence  with  France  — 
the  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks.  His  reply  to  Mackin- 
tosh arose  out  of  a  conversation  on  the  subject  at  a 
party  at  which  many  Whigs  were  present.  Parr  said 
O'Quigley  was  no  impostor,  that  he  died  in  the  conviction 
that  the  cause  in  which  he  intrigued  and  suffered  was 
a  good  one.  'I  am  hurt,'  rejoined  Mackintosh,  *to  hear 
Dr.  Parr  employing  his  great  talents  in  defence  of  such 
a  wretch  as  O'Quigley,  who  was  as  bad  a  man  as  could 
possibly  be.'  *  No,  no,  Jamie,'  responded  Dr.  Parr ;  '  not 
so  bad  a  man  as  could  possibly  be :  for  recollect  O'Quigley 
was  a  priest,  —  he  might  have  been  a  lawyer ;  he  was  an 
Irishman,  —  he  might  have  been  a  Scotchman ;  he  was 
consistent,  Jamie,  —  he  might  have  been  an  apostate.'  I 
tell  the  story  as  it  is  given  by  the  Rev.  C.  Colton  in  the 
notes  to  his  satire,  ^Hypocrisy.'  It  has  no  meaning, 
however,  apart  from  the  explanation  Colton  gives  and 
Rogers  omits,  that  Parr  and  many  of  Mackintosh's 
friends  were  greatly  pained  at  what  some  of  them  re- 


TRUE  TO  HIS  WHIG  PRINCIPLES.  335 

garded  as  Mackintosli's  political  apostasy.  Kogers  has 
himself  recorded  that  Mackintosh  had  confessed  to 
Burke  some  change  of  view ;  and  at  a  later  period  he 
tells  us  that  Fox  resented  Mackintosh's  acceptance  of 
the  recordership  of  Bombay  from  the  then  existing 
Government. 

Tlie  slight  indications  all  these  circumstances  give  of 
Kogers's  political  position  in  the  closing  years  of  the 
century  combine  together  to  prove  that  he  and  his  circle 
of  intimate  friends  held  firmly  to  their  Whig  principles, 
and  that  though  he  took  little  part  in  public  movements, 
he  heartily  concurred  with  them  in  holding  aloof  from 
all  contact  or  sympathy  with  a  Government  which  was, 
as  they  held,  betraying  constitutional  freedom  in  the 
house  of  its  friends. 


CHAPTEK  XIT. 

*The  Pursuits  of  Literature.'  —  A  winter  at  Exmouth. — Classical 
reading.  —  George  Steeven%.  —  Jackson  of  Exeter.  —  Letters  to 
Richard  Sharp.  —  Dr.  Moore's  '  Mordaunt.'  —  Dr.  Moore's  death. 
—  Richard  Sharp  and  Fredley.  —  Brighton  in  1801. 

The  contrast  presented  by  the  beginning  and  the  end 
of  the  last  chapter,  which  opened  with  poetry  and  the 
praise  of  country  life,  and  closed  with  political  persecu- 
tion and  danger,  aptly  illustrates  Rogers's  life  during 
these  gloomy  years.  How  completely  he  was  able  to 
live  in  his  poetry,  is  shown  by  the  entire  absence  from 
it  of  any  allusion  to  the  outer  world  of  politics.  The 
chief  literary  excitement  of  this  period  was  caused  by 
the  publication  of  the  satirical  poem,  '  The  Pursuits  of 
Literature,'  which  appeared  in  parts,  the  first  in  1794, 
the  second  and  third  in  1796,  and  the  fourth  in  1797. 
There  was  nothing  in  the  poem  itself  to  call  attention  to 
it.  It  is  a  feeble  imitation  of  Gilford.  But  it  was  made 
the  vehicle  of  an  immense  bundle  of  Notes,  full  of 
personal  attacks  on  all  the  chief  Liberals  of  the  time. 
The  first  part  of  the  poem  has  only  two  hundred  and 
fifty  lines  ;  but  there  are  many  pages  which  contain  but 
one  line  or  two,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  page  is  ^  notes.' 
In  this  way  the  first  part  swelled  to  a  volume  of  more 
than  a  hundred  pages.  The  authorship  of  the  poem  was 
at  first  a  mystery,  and  the  magazines  were  full  of  spec- 
ulations about  it.  It  was  at  last  discovered  to  be  by 
T.  J.  Mathias.  He  was  a  friend  of  Eogers,  though  of 
different  politics,  and  Rogers  had  a  good  deal  of  inter- 
course with  him  in  succeeding  years.    It  is  a  testimony 


MATHIAS'S  'PURSUITS  OF  LITERATURE.'        337 

to  Rogers's  literary  position  that  the  political  satirists 
of  the  period  usually  let  him  alone.  One  of  the  persons 
attacked  in  the  notes  was  Dr.  Joseph  Warton,  whose 
^Life  of  Pope  '  was  described  as  ^  A  Commonplace  Book 
upon  Pope.'  He  was  himself  spoken  of  as  ^drivelling 
on  the  page  of  Pope ; '  and  a  dozen  pages  of  notes  were 
devoted,  with  all  the  capitals  and  italics  by  which  feeble 
writers  attempt  to  make  their  sentences  emphatic,  to 
what  was  intended  to  be  a  very  severe  assault  upon  him 
as  a  poet,  a  critic,  and  a  biographer.  Warton  wrote  to 
Eogers  about  it,  speaking  of  Mathias  as  his  ^  pious  critic,' 
but  Rogers  agreed  with  some  of  the  criticism,  as  Warton 
had  printed  some  things  —  such  as  the  ^  Imitation  of  the 
Second  Satire  of  the  First  Book  of  Horace '  —  which  Pope 
had  never  publicly  acknowledged  as  his  own.  Nothing  in 
later  times  has  created  quite  such  an  excitement  and  hub- 
bub among  literary  men  as  this  book.  It  was  an  early 
product  of  the  reaction  the  French  Revolution  had  pro- 
duced. Scarcely  a  single  writer  who  was  on  the  Liberal 
side  escaped,  and  gross  personalities  were  used  in  an 
attempt  to  throw  discredit  on  them.  Rogers,  who  knew 
Steevens,  used  to  say  that  Steevens  had  said  to  Mathias : 
*  Well,  since  you  deny  the  authorship  of  "  The  Pursuits  of 
Literature,"  I  need  have  no  hesitation  in  telling  you  that 
the  person  who  wrote  it  is  a  liar  and  a  blackguard ! ' 
Rogers  one  day  asked  Mathias  whether  he  had  written 
it,  and  Mathias  replied :  *  Can  you  suppose  that  I  am  the 
author  of  the  poem  when  you  are  not  mentioned  in  it  ? ' 
But  some  time  after  this  Lord  Bessborough,  who  was 
getting  up  an  illustrated  edition  with  portraits,  asked 
Rogers  for  his  portrait  for  the  purpose.  Rogers  said  : 
*Why  —  there  is  no  mention  in  it  of  me!'  Lord  Bess- 
borough,  however,  turned  to  the  note  in  which  the  ob- 
servation is  made  that,  ^  Time  was  when  bankers  were 
as  stupid  as  their  guineas  could  make  them  ; '  but  now 
Mr.  Dent  is  a  speaker,  ^  Sir  Robert  has  his  pencil  and 

22 


338  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

his  canvas,  and  Mr.  Kogers  dreams  on  Parnassus,  and  if 
I  am  rightly  informed  there  is  a  great  demand  among 
his  brethren  for  "  The  Pleasures  of  Memory." ' 

After  the  publication  of  'An  Epistle  to  a  Friend' 
Kogers  seems  to  have  devoted  himself  to  a  general  course 
of  reading  and  to  the  careful  study  of  the  principles  of 
art  as  applied  to  household  furnishing.  He  was  thinking 
in  these  years  of  the  '  one  fair  asylum  from  the  world,' 
the  '  one  chosen  seat  that  charms  with  various  view  ; '  of 

*  this  calm  recess,  so  richly  fraught 
With  mental  Ught  and  luxury  of  thought ; ' 

in  which  the  life  of  the  hero  of  the  '  Epistle  ' '  steals  on ; ' 
of  the  humble  walls  which,  thanks  to  *the  faithful 
graver,'  '  thy  gallery  Florence  gilds,'  and  the  low  roof 
which  '  the  Vatican  recalls.'  His  first  step,  however,  was 
the  taking  of  a  course  of  classical  literature.  His  health 
at  this  time  was  very  precarious,  and  he  seems  to  have 
suffered  a  good  deal  mentally  from  the  gloomy  aspect  of 
the  times.  In  London  he  must  necessarily  live  among 
men  who  were  absorbed  in  the  great  struggle  which  the 
Whigs  were  carrying  on  against  the  war  and  the  Gov- 
ernment. But  away  from  London,  whether  he  was  at 
Margate,  or  at  Brighton,  or  travelling,  he  put  all  these 
anxieties  aside  and,  as  his  letters  show,  plunged  into 
the  social  gayeties  of  the  place  and  of  the  season.  This, 
however,  was  not  the  case  in  the  winter  of  1799.  In 
the  autumn  of  that  year  his  health  was  so  delicate  that 
Dr.  Moore  insisted  that  he  should  spend  the  winter  in 
Devonshire.  There  was  no  obstacle  to  his  doing  so.  The 
business  in  Freeman's  Court  was  falling  more  and  more 
under  the  management  of  his  brother  Henry,  whose 
ability  Samuel  Rogers  was  able  to  trust  implicitly. 
Henry  Rogers  was  now  five-and-twenty,  and  with  the 
other  partners  had  relieved  his  brother  of  all  concern 
for  the  bank  when  it  was  needful  for  him  to  go  away. 


VIEWS  OF  HERODOTUS  AND  THUCYDIDES.     339 

He  therefore  took  Dr.  Moore's  advice,  and  went  to  winter 
at  Exmouth  in  1799-1800. 

He  made  this  enforced  stay  on  the  Devonshire  coast 
a  kind  of  studious  exile.  He  had  left  school  compara- 
tively early,  and  had  not  done  much  classical  reading. 
He  knew  a  good  deal  of  Latin,  and  something  of  Greek, 
but  he  had  formed  the  desire  to  make  himself  acquainted 
with  the  great  writers  of  antiquity.  He  could  not  now 
rub  up  his  classics  sufficiently  to  enable  him  to  read 
them  in  the  original,  and  he  consequently  furnished 
himself  with  the  best  English  and  French  translations. 
These  translations  he  read  with  the  utmost  care,  making 
elaborate  notes  and  criticisms  upon  them  as  he  went 
along.  There  are  two  volumes  of  a  diary  of  his  readings 
which  show  that  almost  every  day  had  its  task,  and  that 
the  task  was  well  and  patiently  done.  Three  or  four 
months  thus  spent  were  felt  to  be  well  spent.  They 
made  a  great  addition  to  his  knowledge,  and  the  vantage- 
ground  thus  gained  he  never  permitted  himself  to  lose. 
There  is  no  need  to  reproduce  these  diaries.  One  of  his 
notes,  however,  I  may  extract  as  illustrating  his  views. 
Recording  the  completion  of  his  reading  of  Herodotus, 
Kogers  writes  :  — 

'■  It  is  with  regret  that  I  take  leave  of  this  pleasant 
old  man.  Of  his  accuracy  as  a  naturalist  Boerhaave  has 
remarked  that  daily  observation  has  confirmed  almost 
all  he  has  said,  and  every  page  shows  his  diligence  in 
collecting  materials.  Less  severe  than  Thucydides,  he 
delights  in  little  circumstances  not  closely  connected 
with  his  subject,  and  is  fond  of  expressing  on  all  occa- 
sions his  own  thoughts  and  feelings.  Less  frequent  and 
prolix  in  his  speeches,  he  sometimes  rises  into  grandeur, 
and  particularly  in  the  discourse  of  Xerxes  at  the  Hel- 
lespont. In  one  respect  he  has  greatly  the  advantage. 
Thucydides  has  followed  the  order  of  times,  Herodotus 


340  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

that  of  things.  Perhaps  his  history  is  too  much  scattered, 
but  it  is  written  with  a  charming  simplicity.  His  was 
the  vast  design  of  a  universal  history,  and  the  Greek 
and  the  Barbarian  have  equal  favor  in  his  eyes.  He 
has  given  us  nothing,  perhaps,  like  the  oration  of  Peri- 
cles, or  the  closing  scene  at  the  siege  of  Syracuse ;  but 
the  invasion  of  Scythia  by  Darius  is  incomparably  sim- 
ple and  sublime,  and  perhaps  no  passage  in  any  his- 
torian is  so  interesting  as  his  account  of  the  defence  at 
Thermopylae.  The  slow  approach  of  the  Persian  army 
and  that  stillness  of  despair  with  which  the  Greeks  await 
its  arrival,  make  an.  impression  on  the  mind  which  must 
last  for  life.' 

Another  aspect  of  this  Exmouth  life  is  given  in  the 
following  letters :  — 

Samuel  Rogers  to  Henry  Rogers, 

Exmouth,  23  Novr.  '99. 
'  My  dear  Henry,  —  I  answered  your  letter  by  return 
of  post,  and  hope  you  received  mine.  I  presume  the 
business  is  in  train,  and  that  everything  goes  on  to  your 
satisfaction.  If  I  am  in  the  least  wanted  let  me  know, 
and  I  shall  think  little  of  the  journey,  —  not  that  I  am 
yet  tired  of  being  here,  though  my  friend  Maltby  says  I 
shall  soon  be.  I  have  never,  indeed,  in  my  life  spent  so 
many  solitary  hours,  yet  perhaps  have  never  been  so  busy, 
and  can  truly  say  I  have  been  less  alone  than  I  have  often 
been  in  the  midst  of  society.  I  have  read  Xenophon's 
*'  Memorabilia  "  and  history,  and  am  now  half-way  on  my 
journey  through  Larcher's  Herodotus ;  and  have,  indeed, 
a  course  of  reading  for  six  months  before  me,  even  in  my 
present  state  of  life.  As  to  my  health,  I  think  it  cer- 
tainly as  good  as  at  Tunbridge,  though  my  breast  at  times 
is  very  painful  j  but  I  eat  and  sleep  and  enjoy  myself. 


m 


RECRUITING  FOR  HEALTH.  341 

My  breath  is  rather  shorter  than  it  was,  and  I  am  a  little 
out  of  humor  with  the  roads  of  this  country,  which  are 
very  stony  and  admit  of  no  pace  safely  but  a  jog-trot, 
which  jars  me.  I  have,  however,  a  little  bit  of  sandy 
common  between  me  and  the  river,  under  the  bank  on 
which  I  live,  and  on  that  I  exercise  in  still  weather. 
The  walk  along  the  sands  is  very  delightful,  and  con- 
tinues at  low  water  for  miles  under  very  romantic 
rocks.  The  shore  is  strewed  with  weeds  and  pebbles, 
which  afford  much  more  amusement,  particularly  the 
last,  than  I  had  apprehended.  Lord  Rolle's  hounds 
are  within  three  miles  of  me ;  I  met  them  this  morn- 
ing on  the  Sidmouth  Road,  but  the  distance  is  too  great 
for  me  to  derive  any  amusement  even  in  my  way  from 
them. 

'  I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  newspapers,  which 
come  regularly.  Indeed,  I  am  very  luxurious  in  that 
article  of  news,  being  furnished  with  the  three  evening 
papers  regularly  after  sunset  from  the  libraries.  What 
a  strange  world  we  live  in !  These  consuls  (how  they 
must  laugh  in  their  sleeves !)  will  not  immediately  de- 
velop their  plan,  whatever  it  may  be;  but  it  will  be 
amusing  to  see  what  two  such  men,  such  a  head  and  such 
a  hand,  will  do  if  left  to  themselves  in  Europe.  Before 
I  left  town  I  sent  Maria  the  receipt  for  bread  sauce. 
I  hope  Sarah  has  it.  I  have  put  up  a  few  Piranesis  in 
my  room,  and  they  please  me  every  hour.  It  is  odd 
enough  that  I  should  find  two  drawings  hung  up  there  of 
Stothard's.  Upon  examining  them  I  find  they  are  copies 
of  two  of  mine  by  a  young  lady.  They  look  very  well, 
and  I  am  glad  to  find  they  make  such  good  furniture. 
If  John  should  ^ply  to  you  again,  may  I  trouble  you 
to  say,  as  from  me,  to  anybody,  that  I  believe  him  to  be 
sober  and  diligent,  and  in  every  respect  qualified  to  make 
a  good  servant  ?  My  present  man  pleases  me  very  much ; 
he  is  cheerful  and  obliging,  and  much  more  attentive 


342  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

than  John.  I  am  glad  to  find  that  Dan  has  settled  some- 
where, though  I  wish  it  had  been  nearer  town.  I  hope 
it  will  improve  upon  him.  I  suppose  Bretell  has  ac- 
knowledged the  receipt  of  the  writings  I  sent  him.  Mr. 
Jackson  speaks  with  great  respect  of  Mr.  Towgood's 
grandfather,  and  inquired  much  after  his  father.  He 
says  the  picture  is  the  best  Opie  ever  painted.  I  have 
not  yet  called  upon  Mrs.  Towgood,  but  certainly  shall 
very  soon.  The  Exeter  Theatre  opened  last  Monday 
with  Eeicher,  the  rope-dancer  from  Sadler's  Wells.  Ev- 
erybody goes  to  see  him.  How  long  I  shall  stay  here 
I  don't  know.  I  have  taken  my  lodgings  for  a  month. 
It  is  not,  I  think,  impossible  that  I  may  fidget  for  a 
short  time  a  little  farther  westward.  .  .  .  Adieu,  my 
dear  Henry. 

*  Believe  me,  ever  yours, 

*Saml.  Rogers.' 

The  interval  between  this  letter  and  the  next  was  one 
of  studious  industry.  The  diary  of  his  reading  for  these 
two  months  fills  a  considerable  volume.  There  is  no 
reference  in  it  to  himself  nor  to  the  society  he  found  at 
Exmouth ;  nothing  but  a  careful  analysis  of  his  reading 
in  Xenophon,  Herodotus,  and  Euripides,  with  a  })lunge 
into  ^schylus,  of  whom,  however,  he  remarks :  '  To  me 
not  half  so  rich  or  forcible  as  Euripides.  I  return  to  him 
with  great  pleasure.' 

The  new  year  found  him  still  in  exile,  and  he  writes  to 
his  sister  Sarah  on  the  3d  of  January,  1800 :  — 

*  You  fear  Exmouth  is  dull.  It  is  very  quiet,  and  I 
can  almost  persuade  myself  I  like  quiet.  You,  perhaps, 
m'ay  like  to  see  the  dramatis  personce.  Here  are  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Stoughton  from  the  Vale  of  Usk,  —  neighbors 
of  the  Waddingtons,  very  good  sort  of  people,  with  whom 
1  have  dined  more  than  once.     If  you  were  to  ask  how 


EXMOUTH  SOCIETY.  343 

we  became  acquainted,  we  none  of  us  know.  On  the 
first  day  we  stared  at  one  another,  on  the  second  we 
looked  sociably,  on  the  third  ditto,  on  the  fourth  ditto, 
on  the  fifth  we  bowed,  on  the  sixth  spoke.  This  is  the 
history  of  an  Exmouth  acquaintance,  and  indeed,  what 
else  can  we  do  ?  We  meet  from  the  four  quarters,  and, 
as  our  object  is  the  same,  a  general  sympathy  leads  to  a 
general  acquaintance.  Last  week,  on  the  underwalk,  a 
very  stately  old  lady,  with  a  nod  and  a  simper,  asked  me 
how  I  did,  and  we  are  now  very  thick :  a  Mrs.  Chantrey, 
the  very  Plutarch  of  family  biography,  well  versed  in 
Leicestershire  anecdotes,  and  very  full  of  Jack  Simpson's 
wedding,  which  takes  place  this  week.  Some  time  be- 
fore, on  the  sands,  a  gentleman  introduced  himself  to 
me  as  having  seen  me  in  town.  I  have  no  recollection  of 
him,  but  he  is  a  great  acquisition,  —  has  travelled  much, 
and  lived  many  years  in  Italy.  His  wife.  Lady  Char- 
lotte Carr,  is  a  very  pleasing,  sensible  young  woman,  — 
one  of  the  Errolls.  By  the  means  of  a  sedan  chair  I 
have  ventured  out  in  an  evening  to  them.  With  the 
Barings,  a  mile  off,  I  have  often  dined,  but  my  great  com- 
fort is  within  a  door  of  me,  by  Mrs.  Labouchere's  fire- 
side, where  I  generally  find  myself  when  my  eyes  ache 
in  an  evening.  Her  cousin.  Miss  Stone  (whose  father 
Mr.  Eaper  knows  as  a  brother  director),  is  a  very  pretty 
girl,  and  has  accompanied  Dolly,  in  the  heroism  of 
friendship,  to  pass  her  winter  in  this  retreat.  They 
decline  all  acquaintance,  and  I  believe  I  am  the  only 
person  they  see  here,  though  they  frequently  visit  among 
the  Barings.  I  was  invited  to  revel  out  my  Christmas 
week  at  Cowley  with  the  whole  clan,  but  I  did  not  ven- 
ture, and  rather  chose  (a  symptom  of  age  and  dulness, 
you  will  say)  to  take  my  flight  in  the  sunshine  of  an 
October  morning  to  Plymouth,  where  I  expected  to  see 
some  fine  scenery,  and,  indeed,  I  now  pronounce  it  the 
finest  thins:  I  have  seen  in  Devonshire.     There  is  a  walk 


344  EARLY  LIFE  OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

under  a  stone  quarry  over  against  Mount  Edgecurabe  and 
winding  along  the  searshore  towards  Lord  Boringdon's 
which  is  divine/ 

The  next  letter  relates  to  another  crisis  in  the  history 
of  his  closest  friend. 

S.  Rogers  to  Richard  Sharp, 

*ExMOUTH,  Jan.  26,  1800. 

*  What  you  sent  me,  my  dear  friend,  I  cannot  tell ;  but 
it  has  done  more  than  all  your  prescriptions.  A  few 
repetitions  will  complete  the  cure,  and  Darwin  shall 
make  a  case  of  it. 

'Your  news  had  been,  in  some  degree,  antic.ipated. 
I  had  not  forgot  you,  and  I  knew  that  the  bank,  by  their 
decision,  had,  at  all  events,  most  effectually  stepped  in 
between  you  and  calamity.  But  forgive  me  if  I  had 
from  the  first  no  very  great  faith  in  your  predictions.  I 
know  when  your  courage  leaves  you.  "  Man  but  a  rush 
against  Othello's  breast,"  etc.  The  fury  of  the  tempest 
has  gone  over  you,  but  it  has  not  left  you  as  it  found 
you.  Your  consequence  as  a  house  is  now  more  than 
ever  established  in  the  world  ;  and  your  own  individual 
importance  is  felt  and  acknowledged  where  it  should  be. 
B.  admired  you  before,  —  he  will  now  cling  to  you  as  the 
man  who  may  be  truly  said  to  have  given  him  all  he  pos- 
sesses ;  and  your  sensations,  even  on  that  account,  must 
be  very  enviable. 

*  A  thousand  thanks  for  your  kind  inquiries.  I  think 
myself  much  better,  and  mean  to  return  among  you  the 
Stentor  of  clubs  and  the  terror  of  all  quiet  people. 

'  Yours  most  affectionately, 

*  Saml.  Rogers. 

'  P.  S.  So  the  outlaw  is  at  last  dead  in  his  den  !  How 
has  he  left  his  books  ? ' 


GEORGE   STEEVENS.  345 

This  reference  in  the  postscript  is  to  George  Steevens, 
the  editor  of  Shakspeare,  who  had  died  at  his  house  at 
Hampstead  on  the  22d  of  January.  He  had  been  living 
for  some  years  a  very  eccentric  life,  as  his  biographer  in 
the  *  Gentleman's  Magazine '  said  —  ^  in  unvisitable  re- 
tirement, and  seldom  mixed  with  society,  but  in  book- 
sellers' shops,  or  the  Shakspeare  Gallery,  or  the  morning 
conversazione  of  Sir  Joseph  Banks.'  Kogers  and  Sharp, 
however,  met  him  occasionally  there  or  elsewhere,  and 
profited  by  his  amusing  conversation.  He  was  one  of 
those  veterans  of  the  literary  profession  to  whom  younger 
aspirants  for  fame  look  up,  and  whose  talk  of  the  great 
men  among  whom  they  lived  has  the  most  lively  interest 
to  the  men  who  are  following  them  along  the  toilsome 
way.  One  of  Steevens's  eccentricities  was  to  go  down 
to  his  printers  at  one  in  the  morning  and  in  the  cham- 
bers of  Isaac  Reed,  which  were  kept  open  for  him,  to 
read  his  proofs  and  get  all  his  corrections  ready  while 
the  compositors  were  asleep.  He  left  his  books,  with  one 
or  two  special  exceptions,  to  his  niece.  Miss  Steevens. 

Eichard  Sharp's  reply  to  this  letter  is  lost.  The  next 
is  from  Rogers. 

Samuel  Rogers  to  Richard  Sharp, 

*ExMOUTH,  18  Feby.  [1800]. 

*  My  DEAR  Friend, — Your  last  letter  gave  me  great 
pleasure.  It  was  not,  indeed,  emblazoned  like  Bona- 
parte's, nor  like  Lady  J.'s  scented  with  odor  of  roses, 
but  it  whispered  of  health  and  leisure  and  peace  of 
mind.  With  a  permit  from  his  Maj^'"  Comm"  I  would 
send  you  a  few  bottles  of  our  Exmouth  Elixir,  —  for  an 
idea  of  its  effects  consult  Saint  Leon,  an  authentic  narra- 
tive far  better  conceived  than  executed.  Moore's  novel 
has  not  yet  arrived  here,  though  hourly  expected.  It 
travels,  I  fear,  with  the  rapidity  of  a  flying  wagon. 


346  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

*Our  sun  is  not  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  sus- 
picions. He  descends,  I  can  assure  you,  every  evening 
into  the  groves  of  Mamhead. 

^Exmouth,  I  fancy,  is  no  longer  the  Exmouth  you 
saw.  The  walk  on  Chapel  Hill  is  still  the  same.  The 
other  to  the  bench  round  a  tree  has  walked  itself  off.  I 
am  sorry  to  hear  you  have  had  no  vigor  to  write.  Have 
you  imbibed  Gray's  notion  of  that  faculty  ?  ^  I  fear  he 
was  right.  A  sight  of  your  old  papers,  however,  will 
surely  awake  it.  As  to  myself,  I  expect  soon  to  be 
exhibited  as  a  most  extraordinary  vegetable.  I  have 
once  or  twice  attempted  to  flower.  You  never  have. 
For  an  account  of  my  last  effort  and  of  yours,  see  the 
"  Anti- Jacobin  Eeview"  for  January,  under  the  article 
of  "Keviewers  Keviewed."  Mr.  Polwhele  is  the  writer. 
I  have  also  much  to  say  of  Larcher :  Homer  I  defer 
till  I  can  procure  a  French  translation  of  which  I  have 
a  high  idea.  The  three  tragedians  I  have  just  done,  — 
and  done  well ;  as  for  Euripides,  he  has  turned  my  head. 
I  wonder  whether  anybody  ever  read  him  before.  I 
fancy  not. 

*  Mr.  Jackson  is  gone  to  Bath.  He  desired  to  be  men- 
tioned particularly  to  you  before  he  went.  He  is  so 
altered  that  my  servant  was  shocked  when  he  saw  him 
last  week.  The  last  lines  he  wrote  me  are  very  charac- 
teristic. Will  they  be  the  last?  He  says  so,  but  I  will 
not  look  that  way. 

^  My  verse  is  neither  idle  nor  active.  Jackson  threw 
a  slur  upon  it  some  weeks  ago,  and  it  roused  me  to  in- 

^  Rogers  probably  refers  to  what  Gray  says  in  a  letter  to  Dr.  Whar- 
ton :  *  I  by  no  means  pretend  to  inspiration,  but  yet  I  affirm  that  the 
faculty  in  question  is  by  no  means  voluntary.  It  is  the  result  (I 
suppose)  of  a  certain  disposition  of  niind,  which  does  not  depend  on 
one's  self,  and  which  I  have  not  felt  this  long  time.  You  that  are  a 
witness  how  seldom  this  spirit  has  moved  me  in  my  life  may  easily 
give  credit  to  what  I  say.' 


CLASSICS   AND   SOCIETY  AT   EXMOUTH.         347 

credible  exertions  for  four-and-twenty  hours ;  but  the  fit 
went  off  and  left  me  languid  and  listless.  In  solitude  I 
can  conceive,  but  I  cannot  execute,  I  cannot  finish. 

^The  life  I  have  led  among  those  old  Fograms  —  the 
Grecians  —  has  thrown  me  into  a  singular  state  of  mind, 
not  altogether  unpleasing  but  very  ill-suited  to  that 
gallipot  style  of  painting  which  I  have  been  accustomed 
to,  and  which  I  fear  the  public  require. 

*  When  you  see  G.  P.  —  you  are  now,  I  suppose,  prop- 
erly purified  and  are  not  to  be  burned  by  Act  of  Parlia- 
ment like  the  ships  from  Mogador^  —  pray  thank  him  in 
my  name  for  an  act  of  friendship  he  has  lately  done  me. 
I  think  myself  particularly  obliged  to  him,  not  so  much 
for  the  thing  itself,  though  that  was  something,  as  for 
the  manner  in  which  he  did  it,  — a  circumstance  which  I 
am  persuaded  is  always  the  case  with  him. 

'  By  the  way,  of  Manchester,  Mr.  Baring,  who  called 
upon  me  yesterday,  says  Jackson  talks  of  going  on  to 
Manchester  to  consult  Ferriar,^  if  the  Bath  waters  should 
not  relieve  him. 

*  I  have  not  seen  one  of  the  Exeter  wits,  though  I  have 
received  an  indirect  application  to  become  an  honorary 
member  of  their  club,  —  a  thing  which  I  rather  like,  and 
have  consented  to.  Polwhele  has  been  expelled  from  it. 
Adieu,  my  dear  friend. 

*  In  return  for  these  salt-water  effusions  I  shall  expect 

1  The  ships  —  the  *  Aurora,'  the  *  Mentor '  and  the  *  Lark  '  —  were 
not  burned  by  Act  of  Parliament,  but  by  an  Order  in  Council.  The  goods 
on  board  were  regarded  as  likely  to  communicate  infection,  and  the 
vessels  and  cargoes  were  destroyed.  This  proceeding  was  the  subject 
of  a  royal  message  to  the  House  of  Commons  in  February,  1800,  which 
was  referred  to  a  Select  Committee,  and  £41,400  was  voted,  on  the 
Report  of  that  committee,  as  compensation. 

2  John  Ferriar,  M.D.,  was  an  eminent  physician  in  Manchester, 
who  wrote  several  medical  books,  besides  '  Illustrations  of  Sterne,'  and 
*  An  Essay  towards  a  Theory  of  Apparitions,'  He  died  in  1815,  at  the 
age  of  fifty-one. 


348  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

a  long  and  succinct  narrative  of  all  your  whereabouts 
from  his  Majesty  the  King  of  Clubs,^  to  the  dirty  drap 
in  Co  vent  Garden.  I  am  inclined  to  think  very  favor- 
ably of  myself  just  now,  though  I  dare  not  yet  think  of 
returning  to  you. 

'  Ever  yours, 

'S.  E. 

'P.  S.     The    door    opens,   and   "Mordaunf   enters. 

Moore  has  written  me  a  long  letter  to  prove  that  *'Pi- 

zarro"  is  Sherry's  chef-cV oeuvre.     I  shall  draw  my  pen 

against  him  in  a  day  or  two.' 

It  would  be  interesting  to  have  Rogers's  reply  to 
Dr.  Moore's  absurd  contention  that  ^Pizarro'  —  a  mere 
translation  and  adaptation  from  Kotzebue  —  was  Sheri- 
dan's chef-d^ oeuvre.  It  was  produced  at  Drury  Lane  in 
1799,  and  had  considerable  success.  Dr.  Moore  himself 
was  falling  into  the  feebleness  of  age.  ^Mordaunt,' 
which  arrived  in  Rogers's  room  as  he  was  penning  his 
postscript,  was  the  old  novelist's  last  work.  Mrs.  Bar- 
bauld  describes  it  as  a  very  languid  production.  Moore 
asked  Rogers  for  criticism,  and  Rogers  had  difficulty  in 
evading  the  necessity  of  giving  it.  Meanwhile  he  writes 
again  to  Richard  Sharp  :  — 

S,  Rogers  to  BicJiard  Sharp, 

*  ExMOUTH,  Feb.  5,  1800. 
'My  dear  Friend,  —  Your  kind  and  entertaining  let- 
ter was  dropped  by  some  sylph  or  sylphid  upon  my  pil- 
low this  morning.  You  and  they  have  my  best  thanks. 
Your  account  of  yourself  I  don't  like,  but  hope  you  are 
by  this  time  able  to  visit  the  den  at  Hampstead.  Pray 
let  me  know  if  it  is  yet  unbarred,  as  I  shall  certainly 

1  The  celebrated  Club  bearing  this  name  was  founded  at  the  house 
of  Mackintosh  in  1801.     See  next  chapter. 


EAST  WIND  AND  BLUE  DEVILS.  349 

set  off  if  it  is.  Now  its  tenant  is  dead  we  may  see  it  in 
safety.  The  nondescript  in  his  nest,  hard  by,  drew  his 
visage,  I  believe.  Moore  is,  indeed,  very  severe  upon  me. 
I  should  like  to  give  him  a  taste  of  my  banishment.  I 
hope  you  have  spent  your  winter  pleasantly.  As  for  me, 
I  leave  my  time  to  spend  itself,  and  often  for  the  hour 
together  watch  the  ferry-boat  under  my  windows,  think- 
ing of  nothing  less  than  the  oxen  and  sheep  and  farmer's 
wives  that  are  in  it.  For  the  first  six  weeks  the  east 
wind  was  here,  and  I  can  assure  you  tolerably  venomous, 
though  I  flatter  myself  less  mortal  in  his  bite  than  with 
you.  I  was  literally  in  a  state  of  siege,  the  air  was  so 
full  of  blue  devils  I  could  distinguish  nothing,  and  my 
world  was  contracted  to  the  size  of  the  carpet.  At  that 
time,  I  fear,  my  health  greatly  suffered.  I  read  for  once 
in  my  life,  and  though  I  felt  no  great  inconvenience 
at  the  time  I  have  declined  almost  ever  since.  I  am 
now,  however,  rallying  a  little.  The  sun  shines,  and  the 
sky  and  sea  contend  which  is  the  bluest.  This  morning 
the  wind  serves,  and  our  little  fleet  of  coasting  vessels  is 
dropping  out  to  sea.  The  air  is  warm  as  summer,  and 
yet  that  Inquisitor  in  the  Welsh  wig  sits  coolly  down  in 
the  bustle  of  Bond  Street  and  condemns  me  to  linger  on 
till  May.  The  very  thought  is  frightful.  I  did  hope  to 
return  by  the  Ides  of  March. 

^Jackson  is,  I  fear,  in  a  bad  way.  For  the  first  two 
months  I  spent  half  my  time  with  him,  and  his  kindness 
has  affected  me  not  a  little.  Among  other  proofs  of  his 
regard  he  has  requested  me  to  take  charge  of  his  papers, 
and  I  shall  not  soon  forget  the  manner  in  which  he  put 
out  his  hand  on  the  occasion.  Ever  since  I  came  into 
this  country  he  has  faded  very  visibly.  In  a  letter  which 
I  have  this  instant  received  from  him  he  says ;  "  I  can- 
not walk  a  hundred  yards,  nor  speak  half  as  many  words 
without  fatigue.  Sleep  and  I  are  upon  such  bad  terms 
that  three  successive  nights  I  have  passed  without  clos- 


350  EAKLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

ing  my  eyes  for  a  single  moment.  This  state  of  affairs 
cannot  last  long,  and  I  wish  for  a  speedy  change  one  way 
or  other."  I  do,  indeed,  fear  that  my  trust  will  soon 
devolve  to  me,  —  a  trust  which  he  had  the  kindness  to 
say  he  had  long  wished  to  leave  to  me.  You  can  easily 
conceive  how  interesting  he  is  at  this  moment.  His 
faculties  are  unimpaired,  but  his  countenance  has  lost 
its  youthful  character.  Adieu  !  The  annals  of  Exmouth 
1  must  reserve  for  my  next. 

*  Ever  yours, 

<  Shall  I  send  you  this  bunch  of  primroses  ?  I  gath- 
ered them  out  of  the  hedge  just  now.  How  sweet  they 
are  !  My  best  regards  to  B.  My  imagination  already 
feasts  on  the  splendors  of  the  Villa  Boddingtonini.' 

The  Jackson  spoken  of  in  the  above  letters  was  the 
eminent  composer  of  Church  music.  One  of  the  memo- 
rable events  of  this  long  winter  exile  at  Esonouth  was 
that  Eogers  made  the  acquaintance  of  this  interesting 
and  remarkable  musician.  He  probably  carried  with 
him  an  introduction  to  Jackson  from  Sheridan  or  his 
wife.  Jackson  was  then  seventy  years  of  age,  and  was 
in  ill-health.  He  was  fond  of  talking  about  his  early 
days,  and  Rogers  has  made  in  his  Commonplace  Book 
a  sketch  of  Jackson's  life  with  extracts  from  his  diary. 
Jackson  was  the  son  of  an  Exeter  tradesman.  At  seven- 
teen he  went  to  London,  riding  on  horseback  as  far  as  to 
Winchester,  and  from  thence  in  the  Winchester  stage, 
in  which  he  was  robbed.  Arrived  at  the  Belle  Sauvage 
in  the  dark,  he  followed  the  porter  through  Ludgate  to 
the  Saracen's  Head  in  Friday  Street — a  Devonshire 
house  —  where  he  had  a  wet  bed  in  the  attic.  In  the 
morning  he  called  on  a  tradesman  in  Watling  Street  with 
a  letter  of  credit  from  his  father.     The  tradesman  was 


JACKSON  THE  COMPOSER.  351 

collecting  orders  in  the  country,  and  was  not  expected 
home  for  three  months ;  but  Jackson  was  accommodated 
with  two  guineas  by  another  person,  to  whom  he  was 
afterwards  able  to  show  his  gratitude.  He  studied 
music  under  Dr.  Travers,  of  the  Chapel  Eoyal.  One  of 
his  recollections  was  of  seeing  the  rebel  lads  executed 
on  Tower  Hill.  He  returned  to  Exeter  to  teach  music, 
and  was  engaged  as  organist  at  the  Cathedral.  His 
compositions  were  popular,  and  he  became  famous.  He 
composed  his  music,  as  he  told  Rogers,  in  the  organ  loft 
*  during  the  intervals  of  the  music,'  as  he  characteris- 
tically called  all  the  other  parts  of  the  service.  In  these 
'  intervals  of  the  music,'  when  less  musical  mortals  were 
praying,  or  listening  to  the  lessons  or  the  sermon,  Jack- 
son occupied  himself  in  writing  original  music  with  a 
pencil.  He  also  composed  at  home  for  an  hour  after 
his  family  were  in  bed  at  night.  He  told  Eogers  some 
curious  stories  which  give  further  musical  views  of  the 
relation  of  music  to  the  service.  A  man  came  on  foot 
from  Honiton  to  request  him  to  play  ^  They  that  in 
Ships,'  having  heard  it  in  the  church  there.  Unable  to 
refuse  him,  and  ashamed  to  play  it  himself,  as  he  had 
played  it  so  often,  Jackson  left  the  church  and  got 
another  to  play  it.  The  man  came  again  and  again; 
Jackson  did  not  know  him,  but  he  always  played  'They 
that  in  Ships  '  whenever  this  auditor  was  there.  'It  is 
for  those  people,'  said  he,  *that  we  compose  and  play, 
and  they  must  have  their  way.'  He  was  once  struck 
with  the  fixed  attitude  of  a  wagoner's  boy  at  church. 
One  day  an  unknown  person  grasped  his  arm  at  the 
entrance  of  Willis's  concert  room  and  whispered  'But 
a  leaf  in  a  whirlwind.'  Jackson  was  a  great  admirer  of 
Defoe,  and  Rogers  thought  his  imitation  of  him,  'The 
Royalist,'  full  of  invention  and  written  with  a  charming 
simplicity.  Jackson  was  an  intimate  friend  of  the 
Sheridans.     He   had   known  Mrs.  Sheridan   before   her 


352  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

marriage.  He  spoke  of  Mrs.  Sheridan's  countenance 
when  singing  as  like  nothing  earthly.  When  he  called 
on  her  in  town  after  her  marriage  she  entreated  him  to 
sing  and  play  with  her,  and  he  did  so  for  three  hours. 
It  was  so  unlike  anything  she  had  known  for  so  long  a 
time  that  she  was  exceedingly  grateful.  Sheridan  had 
no  ear  or  soul  for  music.  His  son  Tom  flourishing  over 
a  quire  of  paper  before  breakfast,  and  burning  it  sheet 
by  sheet,  drinking  the  cream  and  throwing  wet  wafers 
against  the  wall,  was  the  picture,  Jackson  said,  of  a  spoiled 
child.  Jackson  wished  Eogers  to  remember  that  he 
looked  forward  with  great  composure  to  his  end,  though 
he  could  have  wished  for  eleven  years  more,  which  would 
about  suffice  for  finishing  what  he  had  in  hand.  ^  Sitting 
with  him  one  day  on  the  castle  walls  he  drew  a  fresh 
elm-leaf  from  his  purse  and  said  he  had  every  year 
renewed  it  from  a  tree  near  Bristol,'  which  had  for  him 
some  tender  associations.  Jackson  died  in  July,  1803, 
and,  as  a  token  of  his  regard  for  Rogers,  left  to  him  his 
copies  of  the  first  edition  of  ^  Paradise  Lost,'  and  of  the 
'  Faerie  Queen.' 

The  further  story  of  this  visit  to  Exmouth  with 
pleasant  sketches  of  society  at  the  close  of  the  last 
century  is  contained  in  letters  to  Richard  Sharp,  the 
first  of  which  bears  witness  to  the  revived  buoyancy  of 
Rogers's  spirits  in  prospect  of  spring. 

Samuel  Rogers  to  Bichard  Sharp. 

*  Exmouth,  March  2  [1800]. 
*  My  dear  Friend,  —  Your  gossiping  letter  possessed 
in  my  eyes  the  elegance  of  a  Pliny  and  the  grace  of  a 
Sevign^.  I  do  not  so  much  wish  you  "  to  turn  a  period 
as  to  tell  the  news."  But  what  have  I  in  return  to  give 
you  ?  Alas,  the  annals  of  Exmouth  are  scanty  indeed ! 
Never  has  it  known  so  dull  a  winter.    But  something 


m. 


MEN  AND  WOMEN  AT  EXMOUTH.      353 

must  be  done  for  its  credit,  and  shall  I  describe  the 
evening  parties  where  scandal  and  egg-wine  circulate 
hissing  hot,  or  shall  I  provoke  your  envy  by  describing 
myself  "on  the  yellow  sands,"  with  a  girl  under  each 
arm,  a  blonde  and  a  brunette,  the  last  lively  and  pretty, 
a  daughter  of  your  banker  Stone,  the  first  pronounced 
and  very  truly  by  Lavater  an  angel  on  earth,  a  daughter 
of  Charles  Baring,  unseen  by  your  profane  eyes?  No, 
I  will  shift  the  scene,  and  describe  the  men  who  assem- 
ble almost  every  day.  Mr.  Acland,  the  uncle  of  Lady 
Harriet,  the  heroine  in  Burgoyne's  expedition,  an  old 
man  with  very  amiable  and  elegant  manners,  who  enter- 
tains us  continually  in  his  own  beautiful  little  cottage  cov- 
ered with  myrtles,  the  lion  of  Exmouth.  Mr.  Ducarell, 
the  oracle  and  friend  of  Francis  in  the  east,  a  most 
entertaining  fellow,  the  Lucullus  of  the  village.  His 
chauffoir  and  silver  dishes  eclipse  us  all.  Mr.  Ander- 
son, the  friend  and  fellow-traveller  of  George  Matthew, 
a  very  accomplished  man,  of  whom  I  had  heard  much. 
He  is  generally  in  my  house  every  day.  These  with  an 
old  General  and  Admiral  who  have  both  seen  service, 
and  a  Colonel  Oakes,  an  invalid  from  India  whom  An- 
derson calls  "  The  Impregnable,"  having  never,  he  says, 
laughed  but  once  in  his  life,  at  some  joke  of  mine,  — 
these  make  up  our  little  party.  Who  should  be  my  next- 
door  neighbor  but  an  old  flame  of  mine,  a  daughter  of 
Sir  Eras.  Baring's !  Her  husband,  a  partner  in  Hope's 
house,  is  in  the  West  Indies.  She  is  here  in  a  very 
retired  state  with  two  beautiful  little  children,  and 
her  friend  and  coz..  Miss  Stone,  and  when  my  eyes  are 
weary  I  generally  find  myself  in  an  evening  by  her  fire- 
side. The  last  Bulletin  from  Bath  is  favorable,  but  I 
have  great  fears.  On  Thursday  I  am  to  be  exhibited 
at  the  Exeter  Club.  My  whole  length  over  the  door,  as 
it  is  market  day,  will,  of  course,  attract  numbers.  Sir 
Jno.  Kennaway  has  written  from  Bath  to  express  his 

23 


354  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

regret  that  he  cannot  be  there !  But  it  is  to  be  a  full 
day.  You  will  not  forget  to  pray  for  me ;  I  fear  it  will 
bring  on  a  relapse.  As  to  my  health,  I  am  certainly 
better,  and  begin  to  build  castles,  —  a  good  symptom  you 
will  say.  But  I  fear  I  am  condemned  to  a  vagabond  life, 
and  if  not  soon  re-established  shall  apply  to  the  Privy 
Council  for  leave  to  visit  Lisbon  or  Madeira.  Under 
which  of  my  titles  I  shall  travel  I  cannot  yet  say,  but  I 
shall  certainly  go  iiicog.  In  any  of  your  evening  circuits 
(for  you  are  now  a  thoroughbred  rout-man)  have  you 
met  with  the  King  and  Queen  ?  Did  they  look  in  at 
Will  Smith's  the  evening  you  were  there  ?  As  they 
have  begun  with  Lady  Cardigan,  I  shall  expect  to  pop 
upon  them  and  the  girls  two  or  three  times  at  least  in  the 
course  of  an  evening. 

'Pray  write,  and  have  no  scruples  on  the  head  of 
expense,  as  we  have  no  taxes  to  pay  this  year. 

'  Ever  yours, 

'S.  KOGERS.' 

Eogers  had  meanwhile  written  to  Dr.  Moore  about 
'  Mordaunt,'  and  had  made  a  rather  feeble  effort  to  escape 
the  necessity  of  expressing  to  his  choleric  friend  and 
physician  his  opinion  of  the  book.  Other  people,  ladies, 
had  wanted  to  read  it,  and  he  had  been  obliged  to  let  it 
go  before  he  had  done  more  than  read  the  first  volume. 
The  doctor  saw  through  the  friendly  subterfuge,  and 
wrote  angrily :  — 

*  Woodstock  St.,  March  3,  1800. 
'  If  you  had  written  to  me  that  Lady  Errol,  etc.,  had  all 
been  applying  to  you  for  "  Mordaunt "  but  without  effect 
until  you  had  finished  him  yourself,  it  would  have  been 
more  flattering  than  that  you  had  yielded  him  entirely 
up,  and  allowed  those  females  to  have  their  wicked  will 
of  him  when  you  yourself  had  only  labored  through 


J 


STILL  EXILED  AT  EXMOUTH.  355 

the  first  volume.  You  do  not  deal  so  with  the  works  of 
Lady  Jersey.  When  you  write  poetry  you  can  praise  the 
author  from  the  works,  and  the  works  from  the  author,  — 
e.  g.  Lady  Jersey  and  her  daughters.  Well !  since  you 
have  begun  without  flattery,  pray  continue  in  the  same 
style,  and  let  me  have  your  real  notion  of  the  whole. 
Don't  be  afraid  of  finding  fault;  as  your  friend  Dr. 
Fretful  1  says,  —  ''  I  like  it." 

'  .  .  .  remain  quietly  in  Devonshire  till  the  month  of 
May,  and  then  come  quietly  to  London,  where  we  shall  be 
very  happy  to  find  you  in  far  better  case  than  when  you 
left  us. 

'  Another  expedition  is  going  forward.  What  interests 
me  more,  I  am  sure  my  son  will  be  of  it.  I  am  kept 
very  uneasy  about  that  young  man  j  they  continually  pick 
him  out  for  new  dangers. 

*  The  story  of  the  Kussians  not  being  recalled,  proves 
not  to  be  true.  I  am  assured  they  are  on  their  march 
back.  I  have  a  suspicion  that  Bonaparte  spread  the 
rumor  of  their  being  to  act  against  France  merely  to 
promote  his  vast  requisition  of  men  and  money  for  the 
next  campaign.' 

The  order  to  remain  at  Exmouth  till  May  reduced 
Rogers  almost  to  despair.  In  the  next  letter  to  Eichard 
Sharp  there  is  a  further  glimpse  of  Jackson  :  — 

*  Exmouth,  March  28,  1800. 
'  My  dear  Friend,  —  If  you  had  read  my  letter  atten- 
tively (it  must  long  ago  have  experienced  the  fate  of 
the  Alexandrian  Library)  you  might. perhaps  have  seen 
something  which  might  have  led  you  to  suspect  that  I 
did  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  looking  into  a  smiling  and 
open  face.     But  your  eyes  were  dazzled  by  the  long  and 

1  Richard  Cumberland,  the  Sir  Fretful  Plagiary  of  Sheridan's 
*  Critic' 


356  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

splendid  list  of  "  Admirals,  Generals,  Colonels,  Baronets, 
and  Clubs,'' — a  list  which  makes  me  think  it  was  you 
who  gave  rise  to  the  report  of  poor  Horatia  Clifford's 
hunting  with  men.  It  may  relieve  you  in  some  degree 
to  learn  —  that  the  Club  I  have  never  attended,  the  Baro- 
net I  have  never  seen,  the  Colonel  is  sick,  the  General 
gone,  and  the  Admiral  dead. 

^Jackson  came  home  last  week  to  die.  His  legs  are 
swelled  to  a  dreadful  size,  and  his  dearest  friends  are 
denied  access  to  him.  I  rode  over  to  Exeter  the  other 
day,  and  near  the  Cathedral  met  a  chair  curtained  close, 
followed  by  a  lady  in  a  veil.  On  my  way  back  (I  had 
spent  five  melancholy  minutes  with  his  poor  wife)  I 
looked  up  and  saw  his  tall  and  ghastly  figure  on  the 
lawn  before  Mount  Radford,  whither  he  had  been  carried 
once  more  to  look  on  sunshine  and  verdure. 

^I  pushed  my  horse  on,  and  rode  home  to  pass  my 
solitary  evening  as  gayly  as  I  could.  Indeed,  I  do  not 
deserve  your  envy,  and  could  you  have  seen  me  under 
all  my  infirmities  of  mind  and  body,  you  would  not  have 
written  the  letter  you  did.  I  pass  days  and  days  with 
no  human  intercourse.  But  I  need  not  describe  my  life 
—  you  cannot,  I  hope,  conceive  it  —  you  have  never  sat 
over  your  melancholy  embers  as  a  winter's  evening  drew 
on,  and  heard  the  gun  of  distress  fired  in  the  ofiing,  and 
reverberated  among  the  dismal  moors  and  hills  which 
abound  in  this  country. 

*  One  gleam  of  pleasure,  however,  I  did  experience 
last  week.  I  owed  it  to  the  circuit,  nor  will  I  ever  for- 
get my  obligation  to  him  who  paid  me  the  visit,  even 
tho'  he  should  become  a  Secretary  of  State. 

'  I  am  much  obliged '  to  you  for  your  verses  ;  but  if 
they  had  been  better,  I  think  I  should  have  preferred  a 
little  more  of  your  own  prose. 

^I  rejoice  to  hear  of  Combe's  escape  from  his  cell. 
He  will  now  see  more  of  his  friends.    If  you  should  visit 


,    LAST  LETTER  FROM  DR.  MOORE.  357 

him  again,  pray  remember  me  very  particularly  to  him. 
His  name  stands  very  high  in  this  country.^ 

^ Adieu,   my  dear  friend!     In  a  few  weeks  when  / 
also  proem  my  enlargement,  I  shall  certainly  visit  you 
in  your  Apollo,  and  criticise   your  viands   and   liquors.  • 
In  the  mean  time  believe  me  to  be, 

*  Yours  most  affect'y., 

'S.  R. 

*  "  The  Ghost-seer  "  has  greatly  disappointed  me.  We 
had  already  read  the  best  part  of  it.' 

A  day  or  two  after  this  another  letter  from  Dr.  Moore 
brought  his  long  correspondence  with  one  of  his  oldest 
and  earliest  literary  friends  to  its  close. 

•Woodstock  St.,  Apiil  2,  1800. 

^I  dined  a  few  days  since  at  your  friend  Bodding- 

ton's;  Sharp  was   there,  and   Tuffiu,  and   Johnson   the 

banker,  —  all  men  who   mingle   knowledge  of   business 

and  of  the  world  with  extensive   reading.     Men  who 

1  WilUam  Combe,  the  author  of  the  '  Diaboliad  '  and  afterwards  of 
*  The  Tour  of  Dr.  Syntax  in  Search  of  the  Picturesque,  was  frequently 
in  prison  for  debt.  In  his  earlier  days  he  moved  in  good  society,  and 
was  recognized  as  a  literary  man  of  brilliant  powers  and  promise.  He 
was  one  day  visiting  Uvedale  Price  at  Foxley,  when  Mr.  St.  John 
(author  of  a  play  called  '  Mary  Queen  of  Scots '  in  which  Mrs.  Siddons 
used  to  act),  who  was  also  staying  in  the  house,  missed  some  money. 
Uvedale  Price  suspected  Combe  of  taking  it  and  gave  him  a  hint  to 
cut  short  his  visit.  Combe  took  the  hint,  and  asked  whether  they 
were  thenceforth  to  be  friends  or  acquaintances.  'Acquaintances,* 
said  Price,  and  Combe  went  away.  Long  afterwards  he  met  Price  and 
Rogers  together  in  Leicester  Square.  They  both  spoke  to  Combe,  but 
from  that  time  he  avoided  Rogers.  He  wrote  the  'Letters  of  the  late 
Lord  Lyttelton,'  which  were  published  after  Lord  Lyttel ton's  death; 
and  the  '  Letters  supposed  to  have  passed  between  Sterne  and  Eliza  * 
were  by  him.  He  told  Rogers  that  it  was  with  him,  and  not  with 
Sterne,  that  Eliza  was  in  love,  and  that  he  once  had  an  intrigue  with 
her  at  Brighton.    He  died  in  1823. 


358  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

derive  their  knowledge  from  books  alone  are  more  apt 
to  speak  pedantically,  and  argue  arrogantly,  and  often 
absurdly.  I  never  before  was  in  company  with  Bryan 
Edwards.^  I  thought  him  a  very  sensible  and  entertain- 
ing man  ;  but  there  is  an  acumen  in  Sharp's  observations 
which  pierces  every  topic  he  handles.  He  showed  me  a 
letter  from  you ;  it  was  a  little  on  the  plaintive  :  to  re- 
move the  impression  this  made  on  him,  I  assured  him 
that  you  sometimes  assumed  that  style  because  you 
know  how  to  be  pathetic  even  when  in  good  spirits, 
and  that  when  you  were  in  the  most  cheerful  mood,  I 
was  certain  you  could  write  a  delightful  poem  on  the 
pleasures  of  melancholy.*^ 

<  Your  having  lost  no  ground  during  a  winter  so  preva- 
lent in  east  winds,  forms  a  strong  presumption  in  my 
mind,  that  on  the  whole  you  are  better,  and  that  this 
will  be  apparent  to  all  your  friends  and  even  to  yourself, 
who  are  not  always  your  own  friend,  in  the  course  of 
this  summer.  .  .  . 

^  A  rumor  prevails  that  the  French  and  Spanish  fleet 
with  a  considerable  number  of  troops  are  ready  to  sail 
from  Brest,  — perhaps  this  may  be  done  merely  to  retard 
our  expedition ;  it  seems  already  to  have  had  the  effect. 
But  if  the  enemy's  fleet  actually  escape  from  Brest,  the 
troops  we  had  destined  for  the  Mediterranean  will  prob- 

1  Bryan  Edwards,  M.  P.     He  died  in  July,  1800. 

2  Is  this  the  origin  of  the  lines  which  have  been  sometimes  attrib- 
uted to  Byron,  and  which  appear  in  Rogers's  poems  under  the  heading 
*  To '  ? 

*Go,  — you  may  call  it  madness,  folly; 

You  shall  not  chase  my  gloom  away. 
There  's  such  a  charm  in  melancholy 

I  would  not,  if  I  could,  be  gay. 

*  Oh,  if  you  knew  the  pensive  pleasure 

That  fills  my  bosom  when  I  sigh, 
You  would  not  rob  me  of  a  treasure 

Mouarchs  are  too  poor  to  buy ! ' 


DEATH  OF  DR.   MOORE.  359 

ably  be  ordered  to  Ireland.  My  son  might  have  gone  in 
a  most  advantageous  situation  to  the  East  Indies,  —  he 
has  no  taste  for  voluptuous  living,  and,  what  is  still 
rarer,  none  for  making  a  fortune.  When  he  understood 
that  Sir  Charles  Stewart  had  expressed  a  strong  inclina- 
tion to  have  him  on  the  expedition  which  he  is  to  com- 
mand, he  preferred  that.  For  my  part  I  heartily  wish 
they  had  allowed  him  to  remain  in  England  during  this 
summer,  which  will  be  a  most  anxious  one  to  Mrs. 
Moore  and  me.  My  son  cannot  add  to  his  military 
reputation  in  any  subordinate  command.  If  ever  he  be 
intrusted  with  a  supreme  command  he  may.  .  .  . 

*  I  now  conclude  with  a  truth,  which  I  hope  will  afford 
me  pleasure  to  the  end  of  my  life :  I  am  with  great 
esteem, 

'  Your  affectionate  friend, 

^J.  MoORE.* 

The  end  of  Dr.  Moore's  energetic  life  was  not  far  off 
when  this  letter  was  written.  He  did  not  live  to  see  his 
eldest  son,  Sir  John  Moore,  the  hero  of  Corunna,  in- 
trusted with  the  supreme  command  in  which,  as  Dr. 
Moore  expected,  he  added  to  his  military  reputation. 
Dr.  Moore's  health  was  declining,  and  he  retired  to  a 
house  at  Richmond,  conscious  that  his  work  was  done. 
He  sank  gradually,  and  died  on  the  21st  January,  1802, 
in  the  73d  year  of  his  age.  This  is  the  date  given  in 
the  memoir  by  Dr.  Anderson  prefixed  to  the  collected 
edition  of  Dr.  Moore's  works,  published  in  1820.  But  a 
letter  from  his  son  James  to  Rogers  dated  the  23d  of 
February  announces  that  his  father's  death  took  place 
on  the  previous  Sunday,  which  would  be  the  21st  of 
February.  He  left  behind  him  two  comedies,  with  the 
direction  that  they  should  be  submitted  to  Rogers  and 
Sharp,  and  that  their  opinion  should  be  taken  as  to  the 
propriety  of  making  them  public  or  suppressing  them. 


360  EARLY  LIFE  OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

*My  father/  says  Mr.  James  Moore,  'entertained  the 
highest  opinion  of  your  taste,  and  in  giving  your  judg- 
ment on  the  works,  you  must  only  consider  his  fame.' 
The  comedies  were  never  published. 

Here  is  one  of  Mr.  Gilpin's  letters  received  in  this 
spring :  — 

Bev,   William  Gilpin  to  S.  Rogers, 

'From  my  Couch,  the  13th  of  April,  1800. 

'I  left  you,  my  dear  sir,  contemplating  from  the 
shores  of  Devonshire  the  beautiful  moving  pictures  of 
the  Channel.  What  hath  since  become  of  you  I  know 
not;  and  am  obliged  to  my  friend  Cadell  to  direct  these 
my  inquiries  after  you.  Indeed,  I  have  not  thought  of 
my  friends  these  several  months  so  much  as  I  ought, 
having  concentrated  my  thoughts  perhaps  too  much 
within  myself.  Some  months  ago  I  hurt  one  of  my  legs, 
which  hath  given  me  a  good  deal  of  trouble.  Both  my 
legs  are  very  old ;  but  one,  I  think,  is  more  crazy  than 
the  other,  and  this  was  the  leg  to  which  I  gave  offence 
by  neglecting  a  small  scratch  which  it  received  just  in 
the  part  where  the  great  Achilles  was  wounded.  This 
example,  together  with  that  of  my  friend  Mason,  might 
have  instructed  me  better,  but  I  was  stout,  and  contin- 
ued walking  about  till  the  pain  became  more  than  I 
could  well  bear.  I  was  then  obliged  to  call  in  a  surgeon, 
who  threw  me  immediately  on  my  couch,  and  told  me  if 
I  had  walked  about  much  longer  he  could  not  have  an- 
swered for  the  consequence.  He  then  crammed  me  with 
bark  and  drenched  me  with  wine,  and  by  the  help  of 
poultices,  bandages,  and  other  surgical  means,  he  hath 
at  length  (by  the  goodness  of  God)  set  me  upon  my 
legs  —  but  without  the  permission  to  use  them.  In  a 
few  days,  however,  he  promises  me  the  use  of  them.  In 
the  mean  time  I  would  have  you  to  know  that — altho' 


WILLIAM  GILPIN  IN  OLD  AGE.  3G1 

I  was  never  imprisoned  in  like  manner  before,  so  far  as 
I  remember,  in  my  whole  life  —  I  have  behaved,  I  hope, 
very  well  under  my  confinement.  I  have  always  spoken 
kindly  to  my  wife  and  pleasantly  to  my  servants ;  and 
hope,  indeed,  upon  the  whole,  I  have  gotten  some  credit 
in  my  family  for  my  behavior. 

*  Now  I  know  you  have  been  criticising  all  this  egotis- 
tical narrative,  but  I  beg  you  to  consider  how  unjustly. 
When  you  go  to  a  shop,  and  inquire  for  a  piece  of  home- 
spun, and  they  ask  you  for  it  the  price  of  the  finest 
broadcloth,  you  have  reason  to  complain ;  but  when  you 
are  charged  only  the  price  of  homespun  you  ought  to  be 
content.  Now  I  ask  you  as  the  price  of  my  egotistical 
narrative  only  another  egotistical  narrative  in  return. 
What  have  you  then  to  complain  of  ?  Go  to,  then,  and 
pay  me  honestly  the  price  I  set  on  my  goods.  Let  me 
know  where  you  have  been,  what  you  have  been  about, 
and  how  you  do  since  I  left  you  on  the  coast  of  Devon- 
shire. I  had,  however,  one  more  reason  for  my  egotis- 
tical narrative,  but  I  throw  it  into  the  bargain,  as  I 
conceive  you  will  not  purchase  it,  but  with  the  levity  of 
other  young  men  will  throw  it  behind  you.  It  is  to 
conjure  you,  when  you  come  to  the  age  of  76,  to  pay 
great  attention  to  any  hurt,  however  slight,  you  may 
receive  upon  your  legs.  Whether  it  be  scratch,  titter, 
pimple,  itching,  gnat-bite,  pin-prick,  cut,  bruise,  or  what- 
ever it  is,  never  lose  sight  of  it  till  it  is  fairly  gone. 
Now  this  piece  of  experience,  which  has  cost  me  several 
pounds,  I  give  you  for  nothing ;  and  yet  I  fear  you  will 
hardly  even  return  me  thanks  for  it.  Tell  me  whether 
you  have  anything  on  the  anvil.  You  can  never  put 
me  into  such  a  distressful  circumstance  as  I  was  lately 
placed  in.  A  friend  sent  me  some  of  his  verses  to  look 
over.  I  did  not  like  his  verses  so  well  as  I  liked  himself, 
but  as  I  know  poets  are  an  irritable  race  I  durst  not  tell 
him  so.    I  gently  told  him  he  had  put  them  into  very 


362  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

unfortunate  hands,  for  the  Muses  and  I  had  not  been  on 
visiting  terms  these  many  years.  I  have  not  yet  vented 
my  wrath  at  not  finding  any  remarks  of  yours  among  my 
papers;  but  I  apprehend,  if  I  pressed  the  matter,  you 
would  give  me  some  such  answer  as  I  gave  my  friend. 
Mrs.  Gilpin  joins  with  me  in  our  best  respects ;  and  to 
your  sister,  if  she  is  with  you. 

<  Your  very  affectionate 

^WiLL.  Gilpin/ 

Eogers  came  back  to  London  after  his  stay  at  Exmouth 
greatly  improved  in  health  and  spirits.  He  had  added 
something  to  his  store  of  knowledge  as  well  as  to  his 
fund  of  health  and  energy.  The  two  short  pieces  en- 
titled '  From  Euripides,'  in  his  poems,  are  signs  of  the 
mingled  influences  of  his  love  of  that  poet  and  of  the 
exquisite  country  in  which  he  read  him  :  — 

*  There  is  a  streamlet  issuing  from  a  rock. 
The  village  girls,  sino;ing  wild  madrio-als. 
Dip  their  white  vestments  in  its  waters  clear, 
And  hang  them  to  the  sun.     There  first  I  saw  her. 
Her  dark  and  eloquent  eyes,  mild,  full  of  fire, 

*T  was  heaven  to  look  upon ;  and  her  sweet  voice, 

As  tunable  as  harp  of  many  strings, 

At  once  spoke  joy  and  sadness  to  my  soul.' 

*  Dear  is  that  valley  to  the  murmuring  bees. 

The  small  birds  build  there ;  and,  at  summer  noon, 
Oft  have  I  heard  a  child,  gay  among  flowers, 
As  in  the  shining  grass  she  sat  concealed, 
Sing  to  herself.' 

Eichard  Sharp  was  at  this  time  settling  in  that  lovely 
district  of  Kent  which  is  now  forever  associated  with  his 
name.  It  is  not  certain  when  he  acquired  Fredley  Farm, 
where  he  so  often  in  later  days  entertained  statesmen 
and  orators,  poets  and  dramatists,  and  the  chief  of  human 


WANDERING.  363 

kind ;  but  in  this  year  he  was  at  least  looking  forward 
to  the  purchase.  Here  is  a  short  letter  from  Eogers, 
which  illustrates  his  mood  at  this  period  as  well  as  the 
close  connection  between  the  two  friends  :  — 

S.  Rogers  to  Richard  Sharp, 

♦  8  Aug.,  1800. 

^  In  the  hurry  of  pleasure,  alas,  my  dear  friend,  how 
we  speak  by  rote !  At  least  I  do,  for  I  am  never  so 
inclined  to  be  serious  or  melancholy  as  at  a  party  of 
pleasure.  But  to  the  purpose  :  I  shall  be  very  glad  once 
more  to  attend  you  to  Mickleham,  and  will  be  at  the 
foot  of  London  Bridge  to-morrow  at  one  o'clock  with  my 
leathern  trunk.  Whether  curricle  or  gig  or  chaise  will  be 
there  in  waiting  I  care  not,  so  as  you  do  not  fail  me, 
*  Ever  yours, 

^S.  E.' 

The  next  letter  seems  to  indicate  that  the  purchase 
had  been  made. 

S.  Rogers  to  Richard  Sharp, 

'Buxton,  Sepr.  11,  1800. 
*Let  me  wish  you  joy,  my  dear  friend.  The  work 
has  been  yours,  but  you  shall  not  keep  the  reward  to 
yourself.  I  will  also  participate  in  the  pleasure,  though 
but  an  idle  spectator  of  another's  exertions.  You  are 
indeed  to  be  envied.  In  a  picturesque  view  the  grandest 
approach  to  the  metropolis  will  now  excite  new  sensa- 
tions in  your  breast  ;  and,  should  you  ever,  like  Combe, 
visit  the  chapel,  the  evening  hymn  will  lose  none  of  its 
sweetness  by  the  recollection  of  having  added  a  voice  to 
the  choir.  As  for  myself,  I  have  been  wandering,  like  a 
perturbed  spirit,  from  place  to  place,  and  in  less  than  a 
fortnight  shall  return  whence  I  came.    You  ask  me  if  I 


364  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

am  already  fascinated.  I  have  been,  more  than  once, 
since  we  parted,  but  the  ladies,  alas  !  were  preoccupied. 
At  Matlock,  where  I  waited  in  vain  for  the  travellers 
from  the  North  Pole,  I  passed  several  pleasant  hours 
with  Burgh,  the  friend  of  Mason.  I  am  now  waiting 
for  letters  at  a  place  which,  like  the  caravanserai  in  the 
desert,  derives  much  of  its  beauty  from  the  surrounding 
desolation.  ...  I  was  much  concerned  to  see  in  the 
papers  the  loss  Mrs.  S.  has  sustained. 

'  Adieu  !  and  believe  me  ever  yours, 

^S.  E. 

^Pray  tell  Maltby  that  my  Lord  A.,  an  old  friend  of 
his  and  mine,  did  him  the  honor  to  make  many  inquiries 
after  him  yesterday.' 

In  the  autumn  he  was  again  at  Brighton,  but  mean- 
while he  had  written  to  Gilpin  giving  an  account  of 
himself  to  which  his  venerable  friend  sent  a  charac- 
teristic answer. 

Bev,  W,  Gilpin  to  S.  Bogers, 

*  Vicar's  Hill,  Jan.  23,  1801. 
'And  so,  my  dear  sir,  you  now  think  you  have  made 
an  honorable  amends  for  all  the  trouble  3^ou  have  given 
me.  I  heard  last  of  you  from  the  coast  of  Devonshire  ; 
and  hearing  nothing  of  you  for  months  afterwards,  I 
wrote  to  Cadell.  Cadell  knew  nothing  of  you.  I  desired 
Mrs.  Oviatt  to  inquire  of  some  of  her  correspondents  in 
London  about  you.  I  could  learn  nothing  :  nor,  in  fact, 
had  heard  a  syllable,  till  a  few  days  ago  you  came  dancing 
in,  with  all  the  festive  confidence  of  a  man  who  had 
done  nothing  amiss.  "  I  have  been  in  the  North  —  I 
have  been  in  Wales  — and  I  am  now  at  Brighton."  And 
pray,  why  could  you  not  have  told  me  this,  or  a  part  of 
it,  a  year  ago  ?  I  have  another  quarrel  with  you.    When 


LETTER  FROM  WILLIAM  GILPIN.  365 

you  write  a  letter  in  answer  to  one  you  have  received  a 
year  or  two  before,  never  refer  to  any  part  of  that  letter 
unless  you  know  the  writer  keeps  a  copy  of  it ;  but  write 
de  novo.  For  want  of  this  caution  I  have  been  puzzled 
with  several  passages  in  your  letter  referring  to  things 
now  totally  forgotten.  Pray,  did  I  ever  break  your 
shins  ?  You  seem  to  allude  to  some  transaction  of  that 
kind  ;  but  I  remember  nothing  about  it.  If  I  did,  it  must 
certainly  come  under  the  head  of  casualties.  But  my 
wrath  is  now  appeased.  I  shake  hands  with  you ;  and 
all  is  well. 

*  Your  epic,  which  you  mention  so  enigmatically  that 
I  hardly  know  whether  you  are  in  jest  or  earnest,  re- 
minds me  of  an  anecdote  of  Dr.  Brown,  author  of  the 
famous  "  Estimate  ; ''  though  I  think  I  have  seen  it  in 
some  memoirs  of  him  in  print.  Bishop  Warburton 
(whose  practice,  I  have  heard,  it  was,  to  write  civil  let- 
ters, and  do  civil  things,  to  ingenious  young  men  to  'list 
them  into  his  service)  put  into  Brown's  hands  an  epic 
poem  which  had  been  planned  hj  Pope.  The  story,  I 
think,  was  the  discovery  of  Britain  by  one  of  the  heroes 
who  had  escaped  from  Troy.  Brown  finished  three  or 
four  books.  He  was  very  intimate  with  my  father,  though 
but  an  unpleasant  man  to  live  with ;  and  I  remember  he 
showed  me  his  first  book  when  I  was  a  lad  at  Oxford.  At 
the  pillars  of  Hercules  his  hero  makes  a  pause  on  entering 
the  great  ocean.  But  alas !  there  his  muse,  like  yours, 
forsook  him.  So  that,  it  seems,  the  Atlantic  is  the  gulf 
of  epic  poetry.  Homer  prudently  kept  snug  in  the 
iEgean,  and  Virgil  in  the  Mediterranean.  If  they  had 
ventured  through  the  Straits,  they  had  probably  been 
drowned,  like  Brown  and  you. 

'  In  return  for  your  very  affecting  story  of  the  poor 
girl  who  was  killed  by  the  fall  of  a  wall,  I  '11  tell  you  one 
which  has  lately  given  me  much  pleasure.  In  this  parish 
lives  a  man  of  the  name  of  Harnett.    He  lives  by  fishing 


366  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

and  dragging  for  oysters.  His  son,  a  lad  under  age,  used 
to  assist  him.  As  they  were  fishing  out  at  sea,  about  7 
or  8  years  ago,  a  man-of-war's  boat  rowed  briskly  up  to 
them,  and  carried  off  the  lad.  He  was  very  affectionate, 
and,  of  course,  disconsolate.  However,  finding  there  was 
no  remedy,  he  took  the  press-money,  and  it  was  some 
comfort  to  him  that  he  could  send  his  poor  parents  a 
guinea  out  of  it.  In  the  mean  time  he  bestirred  himself, 
and  became  one  of  the  best  seamen  in  the  ship ;  insomuch 
that  the  captain  took  notice  of  him,  made  him  first  his 
cockswain,  and  afterwards  raised  him  to  be  master's 
mate.  He  had  a  little  ambition  to  climb  on  ;  but,  unfor- 
tunately, he  had  no  friend  to  whom  he  could  apply  but 
the  old  minister  of  his  parish.  With  him  he  had  made 
a  great  interest ;  for  he  had  been  continually  sending 
money  out  of  his  own  little  stock  to  his  poor  parents, — 
not  less,  I  believe,  on  the  whole,  than  £30,  for  a  good  part 
of  it  passed  through  my  hands.  I  was  much  disposed, 
therefore,  to  serve  him ;  and  was  more  fortunate  than  I 
expected.  I  have  a  slight  acquaintance  with  Sir  Andrew 
Hammond,  Controller  of  the  Navy,  to  whom  I  wrote  in 
favor  of  my  friend.  Sir  Andrew  immediately  sent  for 
him  to  be  examined,  and  being  pleased,  I  suppose,  witli 
the  young  man's  sense,  modesty,  and  skill  in  his  profes- 
sion, sent  him  back  to  Spithead ;  and  almost  before  he 
got  there  sent  him  a  commission  to  be  master  of  the 
"Harpy,"  sloop-of-war,  in  which  situation  he  tells  me  he 
is  quite  happy.  He  sent  me  a  letter  of  thanks,  and  I 
sent  him  a  letter  of  good  advice.  About  a  fortnight  ago 
the  "  Harpy,"  lying  at  the  mouth  of  our  river,  waiting  to 
convoy  a  Lisbon  fleet,  Mr.  Harnett  came  on  shore  to  visit 
his  parents.  He  visited  me  also  ;  and  instead  of  coming 
to  the  kitchen  door  with  a  thrum-capon,  a  basket  of 
oysters  on  his  shoulder,  and  a  pair  of  shoes  which  were 
neither  akin  to  each  other  nor  to  his  feet,  he  was  intro- 
duced into  the  parlor  —  dressed  in  a  handsome  uniform, 


LETTER  TO  HIS  SISTER  SARAH.  367 

and  with  a  hat  cocked  as  bravely  as  the  best  of  them. 
You  don't  mention  your  health.  The  book  I  have  not 
heard  of.  Mrs.  Gilpin  joins  in  kind  remembrance  to 
your  sister  and  you : 

<With,  dear  Sir, 

'  Your  sincere  and  affect® 

^WlLL.  GiLriN.^ 

A  letter  from  Rogers  to  his  sister  gives  an  account 
of  what  he  was  doing  at  Brighton  in  the  first  few  weeks 
of  the  nineteenth  century. 

Samuel  Rogers  to  Sarah  Rogers, 

*  Brighton,  19  Jany.,  1801. 
'By  an  unfortunate  mistake  at  the  Post  Office  I  did 
not  get  my  dear  Sarali's  letter  till  this  morning.  After 
dining  with  Mrs.  Mostyn  (my  old  friend  Cecilia  Thrale) 
I  have  resisted  the  temptation  of  an  assembly  at  Lord 
Tankerville's,  and  have  come  home  to  converse  a  few 
minutes  with  her  who,  I  may  almost  say,  is  to  me  more 
out  of  sight  and  less  out  of  mind  than  anybody  I  know 
in  this  world.  I  am  now,  however,  happy  to  think  that 
I  shall  very  soon  see  her  and  hear  her,  and  can  even 
number  the  days  of  my  absence  from  her.  Brighton  is, 
as  you  imagine,  my  dear  Sarah,  still  very  gay,  and  you 
will  believe  it  when  I  tell  you  that  I  have  for  this  very 
day  four  dinner  and  three  evening  invitations.  Indeed, 
I  am  in  great  danger  of  being  spoiled ;  and  by  nobody 
so  much  as  yourself,  in  which  you  would  be  particularly 
blamable,  if  you  had  not  yourself  basked  in  that  kind 
of  sunshine  without  injuring  your  complexion  by  it,  the 
complexion  of  your  mind,  I  mean.  Yesterday  I  spent  the 
day  very  pleasantly  with  a  large  family  of  the  Casama- 
jors,  who  form  a  concert  by  themselves,  —  the  girls  and 
their  brothers  ranging  round  the  harpsichord  and  singing 
glees  and  anthems  with  a  decorum  and  a  harmony  which 


368  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

would  delight  you.  The  eldest  son  officiated  at  Peters- 
burg for  Lord  Whitworth  with  great  credit  to  himself. 
As  to  Mrs.  Figou,  who  is  uij  great  patroness  here,  she  is 
!  delightful.  I  must  introduce  her  to  you.  Not  less  so 
I  are  two  of  Lady  Tanker ville's  daughters,  tho'  almost 
I  children,  whose  ambition  it  is  to  retire  into  some  cottage 
'  and  enjoy  each  other's  society  for  life,  —  a  la  mode  de 
Llangollen.  Here  is  also  one  of  Mrs.  Maltby's  sisters 
who  was  always  a  great  favorite  of  mine.  She  is  now, 
alas !  married  to  a  man  of  large  fortune,  but  who  is  well 
worthy  of  her.  The  ladies  here  are  in  general  above  par, 
but  the  men  as  much  below  it.  The  Ellises  are  here,i 
but  live  very  privately.  I  am  their  only  guest.  Here 
are  also  the  Miss  Thrales,  Mrs.  Piozzi's  daughters.  From 
some  accident  I  have  never  been  acquainted  with  them, 
though  they  accuse  me  of  having  shunned  them.  They 
are  very  elegant,  sensible  women,  and  are  a  great  ad- 
dition to  the  society  here.  Mrs.  Pigou,  the  Thrales, 
the  Tankervilles,  and  two  or  three  others  meet  at  one 
another's  houses  every  day  —  I  should  say  every  evening 
—  and  the  harp  and  piano  generally  mingle  their  voices 

1  George  Ellis,  F.  R.  S.,  F.  S.  A.;  died  10  April,  1815,  aged  seventy; 
wrote  in  '  The  RoUiad'  the  invective  against  Pitt:  — 

*  Pert  without  fire,  without  experience  sage.* 

In  1790  published  *  Specimens  of  Early  English  Poetry.*  Wrote  on  the 
formation  and  progress  of  the  English  language.  Went  to  Lille  with 
Lord  Malmeshury  in  1797;  changed  his  politics  and  joined  the  'Anti- 
Jacobin.  He  was  much  beloved  by  his  friends.  Scott  addresses  him 
in  the  introduction  to  the  fifth  canto  of  Marmion :  — 

'  Thou  who  canst  give  to  lightest  lay 
An  unpedantic  moral  gay, 
Nor  less  the  dullest  theme  bid  flit 
On  wings  of  unexpected  wit; 
In  letters  as  in  life  approved, 
Example  honored  and  beloved, 
Dear  Ellis!  to  the  bard  impart 
A  leison  of  thy  magic  art.' 


BRIGHTON  GOSSIP.  369 

with  ours  in  the  conversation,  and  make  it  very  pleasant. 
I  should  not  omit  General  Forbes,  the  General  of  this  dis- 
trict, a  very  amiable,  pleasant  old  man  who  has  seen  a 
great  deal  of  service  in  both  hemispheres.  He  goes  up  to 
town  this  week  to  kiss  hands  on  his  promotion,  and  I 
believe  I  shall  accompany  him  on  Wednesday.  Adieu, 
my  dear  Sarah !     Give  my  love  to  all,  and  believe  me, 

*  Ever  yours, 

'S.  K. 

*  Among  the  persons  of  the  drama  I  must  not  omit  my 
old  friend  Nicholls  ^  (the  M.  P.),  who  is  here  with  his 
family.  They  have  retired  into  the  country,  and  two 
months  here  are  given  them  in  lieu  of  a  journey  to  Lon- 
don !  !  !  With  regard  to  the  christening,  I  do  believe  I 
should  have  been  present  if  it  had  come  to  me  in  time. 
You  will  shake  your  head  and  say  I  am  much  obliged  to 
the  Post  Office  for  saving  me  from  a  dilemma.  I  wrote 
to  Mr.  Gilpin  last  week,  and  mentioned  you  particularly 
in  it.  Indeed,  I  could  not  do  otherwise  in  answer  to 
your  inquiries.  Pray  tell  Maria  that  I  deserved  more 
than  an  intention  to  write  a  postscript  from  her.  I  am 
glad  Mr.  Raper  has  dismissed  his  doctors.  With  regard 
to  the  tragedy  I  can  only  tell  you  it  rests  on  newspaper 
authority.  I  must  have  written  it  in  my  sleep ;  and  what 
has  become  of  it  I  cannot  tell.  If  it  should  be  found 
under  the  pillow,  you  shall  have  the  first  sight  of  it,  a 
perusal  I  am  sure  you  would  not  endure.  I  am  sorry  to 
hear  such  tidings  of  Quarry  Bank.  I  am  sure  I  should 
soon  die  there  of  a  nervous  fever.' 

1  Mr.  NichoUs  was  member  for  Tregony. 


24 


CHAPTEE  XIII. 

*  The  King  of  Clubs.'  —  *  The  Bachelor.'  —  Kogers  Building.  —Paris  in 
1802.  —  Letters  to  Henry  Rogers,  Maria  Sharpe,  Mrs.  Greg.  —  Fox 
and  Rogers  in  Paris.  —  Fox  and  Mackintosh.  — Rogers's  new  House. 
— His  final  Settlement  in  St.  James's  Place. 

'  The  King  of  Clubs '  referred  to  in  the  letter  to  Eichard 
Sharp  was  not  actually  established  till  the  first  year  of 
the  nineteenth  century.  It  was  founded  by  a  group  of 
friends  who  were  in  the  habit  of  meeting  at  Mackintosh's 
house:  Eogers,  Eichard  Sharp,  Scarlett,  Eobert  Smith, 
and  John  Allen.  Scarlett,  afterwards  Lord  Abinger,  tells 
us  that  the  chief  figures  in  its  social  intercourse  were,  in 
addition  to  those  already  mentioned,  Eomilly,  Dumont, 
Tennant,  and  the  Eev.  Sydney  Smith.  To  these  were 
added  Lord  Lansdowne,  Lord  Holland,  Brougham,  Lord 
Cowper,  Lord  King,  Porson,  Payne  Knight,  Horner, 
Bryan  Edwards,  Jeffrey,  Smithson,  Whishaw,  Alexander 
Baring,  Luttrell,  Blake,  Hallam,  Eicardo,  and  Hoppner. 
Francis  Horner  speaking  of  visits  made  to  the  club  in 
the  spring  of  1802  mentions  that  he  met  there  Aber- 
cromby,  Tom  Wedgwood,  and  Maltby,  and  that  the  con- 
versation consisted  of  literary  reminiscences,  anecdotes 
of  authors,  and  criticisms  of  books.  The  Club  met 
monthly  at  dinner  at  the  old  ^  Crown  and  Anchor '  in  the 
Strand,  where  the  Whig  Club  met  for  some  years  on 
Tuesday  evenings.  '  The  King  of  Clubs '  was  one  of  those 
conversation  clubs  which  had  superseded  the  coffee- 
houses and  the  taverns  in  which  Addison  and  Johnson 
had  spent  so  much  of  every  day  in  pleasant  talk.  In 
those  times  men  prepared  their  observations  beforehand, 


*THE  KING  OF  CLUBS.*  371 

and  so  led  the  talk  as  to  bring  them  in.  There  is  a  story 
of  Eichard  Sharp  having  one  day  seen  on  the  desk  the 
notes  of  the  conversation  in  which  his  partner  Bodding- 
ton  was  to  join  in  the  evening.  Sharp  was  to  be  of  the 
party,  and  he  committed  to  memory  the  prepared  im- 
promptus of  his  friend,  assisted  him  to  lead  the  conver- 
sation in  the  right  direction,  and  then  forestalled  him 
with  his  stories  and  clever  things.  There  was  nothing 
unusual  in  Boddington's  preparations.  Men  read  books, 
recorded  good  stories,  and  reserved  criticisms  on  men 
and  things  for  the  evening  talk.  The  two  most  brilliant 
talkers  in  'The  King  of  Clubs'  were  Mackintosh  and  Syd- 
ney Smith.  Sydney  Smith  said  of  Mackintosh  that  his 
conversation  was  more  brilliant  and  instructive  than  that 
of  any  human  being  he  ever  had  the  good  fortune  to 
be  acquainted  with.  But  Kogers,  a  still  more  intimate 
friend  of  Mackintosh,  said  that  he  sacrificed  himself  to 
conversation,  read  for  it,  thought  for  it,  and  gave  up 
future  fame  for  it ;  ^  and  Mackintosh  is  not  the  only  man 
in  this  brilliant  group  of  whom  the  observation  may  be 
made. 

There  was  at  one  time  a  prospect  that  much  of  the 
wit  and  learning  poured  into  these  conversations  would 
take  permanent  form.  Rogers  and  his  friends  proposed 
to  establish  a  literary  paper,  to  be  called  '  The  Bachelor,' 
and  published  twice  a  week.  Mackintosh  tells  us  that 
this  paper  would  probably  have  imitated  the  aim,  even 
if  it  had  not  equalled  the  execution,  of  the  essayists  of 
the  reign  of  Queen  Anne.  The  men  to  be  associated  in 
the  enterprise  were  :  Rogers,  Mackintosh,  Robert  Smith, 
Scarlett,  and  Richard  Sharp.  The  execution  of  the  pro- 
ject was  frustrated  at  the  moment,  and  never  resumed. 
Rogers  has  left  in  his  Commonplace  Book  an  outline 
of  the  kind  of  contributions  the  paper  was  intended  to 
contain.  This  sketch  is  amusing.  It  is  clearly  Rogers's 
1  Moore's  '  Diary,'  vol.  vi,  p.  292. 


372  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

own,  particularly  the  motto  from  Gray,  and  the  outline 
of  the  '  History  of  a  Voice.' 

Periodical  Paper  —  The  Bachelor. 

Poor  Moralist,  and  what  art  thou  ?  —  Gray. 

First  —  His  history  :  his  attachments  and  adventures. 
Last  —  His  marriage  concludes  the  paper. 

1.    On  War.     2.    On  Courtship.     3.    History  of  an  old  house. 

4.  History  of  a  voice,  a  musical  cry  in  his  cradle,  cries  wild 
lavender  and  matches,  frightens  the  birds  from  the  corn ; 
a  ballad-singer,  sings  with  the  miners  in  Castleton  Cave, 
with  the  singers  at  the  parish  church,  catches  cold,  a 
deputy  crier,  a  chorister  in  a  cathedral,  sings  at  concerts, 
marries  a  rich  deaf  dowager,  and  sells  his  voice  in 
Parliament. 

6.  Letters.  Cairo  flea.  An  antiquarian's  conjecture  in  the 
next  century,  1895,  on  a  board  lately  dug  up  inscribed 
'  Man  Traps.'  Lord  Stanhope's  Reasoning  Machine. 
A  Christmas  in  the  country.  A  husband's  threat  to  a 
wife :  '  I  '11  wear  a  wig.'  History  of  a  Talker  and  Listener. 
Eloge  upon  Snuff. 

Rogers,  however,  had  at  this  period  another  occupa- 
tion for  his  leisure.  He  was  designing  the  dwelling 
which  for  more  than  half  a  century  was  to  be  the  ad- 
miration and  the  envy  of  his  contemporaries.  We  may 
take  it  for  granted  that  he  had  by  this  time  given  up 
all  thought  of  marrying,  and  settled  down  to  the  life 
of  a  bachelor.  His  house,  if  not  actually  planned  as  a 
bachelor  dwelling,  scarcely  contemplated  family  uses. 
He  and  Sir  John  Lubbock  bought  a  house  of  the  Duke 
of  St.  Albans,  in  St.  James's  Place,  and  made  two  houses 
of  it.  The  reconstruction  thus  rendered  needful  gave 
Rogers  an  opportunity  of  making  for  himself  a  home  in 
accordance  with  his  tastes,  and  he  devoted  himself  to 
the  agreeable  task  with,  the  most  striking  success. 


PARIS  IN  1802.  373 

The  summer  and  autumn  of  1802  offered  him  an  un- 
usual opportunity  for  the  study  of  art,  and  he  went  into 
it  as  systematically  as  he  had  gone  into  classical  reading 
during  his  Devonshire  exile. 

The  Peace  of  Amiens  opened  Paris  to  Englishmen,  and 
there  was  an  immense  outflow  of  visitors  from  this  coun- 
try to  the  republican  capital.  It  had  been  practically 
sealed  from  about  the  time  of  Eogers's  visit  in  1791 ;  for 
the  horrors  of  the  Terror  had  closed  it  as  much  as  war. 
In  1802,  therefore,  there  was  the  greatest  curiosity  to  see 
the  city  over  which  the  revolutionary  storm  had  swept, 
and  which  had  since  been  enriched  with  the  spoils  of 
Europe.  The  Louvre  contained  at  that  time  the  most 
splendid  collection  of  pictures  and  statues  that  had  ever 
been  brought  together,  and  artists  and  men  of  taste  took 
occasion  of  the  brief  gleam  of  peace  to  rush  over  and 
feast  their  eyes  on  the  unexampled  sight.  Rogers's 
brother-in-law,  Sutton  Sharpe,  had  gone  over  early  in 
September,  and  found  himself  in  a  crowd  of  artist 
friends:  Flaxman  and  his  wife,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Opie, 
Fuseli,  then  at  the  height  of  his  fame,  and  Farrington, 
R.  A.,  who  was  his  companion  in  the  journey ;  Benjamin 
West,  president  of  the  Eoyal  Academy,  and  his  son 
Raphael  West,  then  expected  to  attain  an  eminence  he 
never  reached;  Shee,  afterwards  Sir  Martin  Shee,  and 
President  of  the  Royal  Academy  ;  Hoppner  and  his  wife, 
and  others  less  known  to  fame.  Erskine  and  his  son, 
and  Travers  the  surgeon,  also  occupy  a  prominent  place 
in  Sutton  Sharpe's  letters.  In  a  visit  which  Boddington, 
the  two  Erskines,  Rogers,  and  Sutton  Sharpe  made  to- 
gether to  Versailles,  Sutton  Sharpe  says  :  ^  Erskine  was 
in  the  most  prodigious  spirits.  Half-mad  with  joy  he 
walked  about  the  gardens,  exclaiming :  "  What  a  de- 
lightful place,  —  but  it  won't  keep  people's  heads  on  their 
shoulders  ! "  Erskine  was  introduced  to  the  First  Consul 
as  an  "avocat,"  but  Bonaparte  did  not  understand  his 


374  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

rank  and  eminence,  and  took  no  notice  of  him.'  Mill- 
ingen  the  antiquary,  Townley,  and  Champernowne,  the 
well-known  collectors  of  objects  of  art,  with  Dr.  Carrick 
Moore,  brother  of  Sir  John  Moore,  were  also  in  Paris  at 
this  period,  and  formed  part  of  the  wide  circle  of  friends 
and  acquaintances  in  which  Rogers  found  himself  as  soon 
as  he  joined  his  brother-in-law.  His  old  friend  Gilpin, 
in  a  characteristic  letter,  which,  like  all  Gilpin's  letters, 
is  worth  reproducing  for  its  own  sake,  gave  him  a  com- 
mission based  on  doubts  which  were  widely  prevalent  at 
the  time. 

Bev.  Wm.  Gilpin  to  S.  Rogers, 

'My  dear  Sir, — I  write  immediately,  not  to  answer 
your  letter,  but,  as  you  are  going  to  France,  to  give  you 
a  commission  to  the  Belvidere  Apollo.  With  my  com- 
pliments beg  to  know  whether  he  is  the  real  Apollo,  or 
a  fictitious  one  ? 

*  About  a  month  ago  a  gentleman,  the  Dean  of  Ely, 
called  upon  me  and  informed  me  that  Mr.  Wyatt  (whom 
also  —  as  you  are  now  so  united  by  brick  and  mortar  —  you 
may  have  an  opportunity  of  consulting)  told  him  that  the 
king  had  sent  him  to  Paris,  to  inquire  about  the  Italian 
statues ;  that  he  had  formerly  been  intimately  acquainted 
with  the  Apollo  in  Italy,  and  that  he  was  certain  the 
Apollo  at  Paris  was  fictitious.  Now  I  do  not  assert  that 
Mr.  Wyatt  told  this  to  the  Dean,  but  that  the  Dean  had 
been  well  informed,  at  least,  that  Mr.  Wyatt  had  said 
this.  I  shall  wait,  with  great  impatience,  to  hear  from 
you  on  your  return,  —  not  only  to  satisfy  me  on  the  point 
in  question,  but  to  hear  you  relate  all  the  wonders  you 
have  seen ;  and  to  tell  me  whether  you  think  the  crying 
or  the  laughing  philosopher  would  meet  with  more  game  ? 
For  myself,  though  I  do  not  exclude  Paris  and  France 
from  the  last  circling  rim  of  my  benevolence,  yet,  con- 


REVISITS  PARIS.  375 

sidering  the  world  as  one  great  State,  the  French  are 
certainly  placed  by  Providence  in  one  of  the  most  igno- 
minious offices  in  it,  that  of  presiding  over  gibbets  and 
whipping-posts. 

After  all,  I  think  it  more  than  probable  you  may  not 
go  to  France  at  all,  but  may  conclude  your  journey 
there  as  you  did  that  to  America.  If  you  go,  may 
heaven  defend  you,  and  preserve  you  safe  out  of  the 
den  of  the  European  Cacus ! 

*  Yours,  truly  sincere, 

^W.  G. 

«V.  H.,  Sep'.  8,  1802.' 

Eogers's  letters  to  Gilpin  have  not  been  preserved. 
The  following  letters,  addressed  to  members  of  his  family, 
tell  the  story  of  this  visit  to  Kepublican  Paris. 

Samuel  Rogers  to  Maria  Sharpe. 

*  Calais,  Wednesday. 

[Postmark  16  Sepr.  1802.1 

'  My  dear  Maria,  —  After  a  passage  of  three  hours  I 
sit  down  to  fill  up  the  interval  before  dinner.  We  had 
above  forty  people  of  both  sexes  on  board,  among  whom 
were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Howard.  The  lady  sat  in  the  body 
of  her  chaise  on  deck.  Everybody  was  ill  except  my- 
self, who  made  use  of  the  recipe  you  recommended  to 
me  —  a  diachylon  plaster  —  with  great  success,  and  I 
now  write  particularly  to  thank  you  for  it.  My  fellow- 
traveller  is  delighted  with  the  novelty  of  the  scene,  but 
anxious  to  proceed.  We  are,  however,  detained  for  the 
passport,  and  must  console  ourselves  with  the  Comedie, 
which  begins  at  half-past  five,  I  need  not  describe 
Calais  to  you.  The  people  are  just  as  we  saw  them ;  the 
military  cocked  hats  are  enormous ;  the  women's  heads 
are  as  large  as  ever  j  and  six  little  children,  not  bigger 


376  EARLY  LIFE  OF   SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

than  Sutton,^  or  very  little  bigger,  were  dancing  together 
a  cotillon  in  the  street  just  now,  the  boys  with  long  talL% 
to  a  passing  tambourine.  We  had  a  delightful  journey 
yesterday.  Lord  Whitworth  did  not  make  his  appear- 
ance, but  we  met  on  the  road  innumerable  parties  of 
gypsies,  bag  and  baggage. 

^  After  a  grand  entertainment  of  soup,  cutlets,  fish, 
fowl,  partridges,  etc.,  we  went  to  the  Comedie.  The 
Mimicipalite  sat  under  a  very  handsome  canopy  in  a  kind 
of  state  box.  The  drop-scene  between  the  acts  was  in- 
scribed with  the  names  of  Eustache,  St.  Pierre,  etc.,  the 
six  heroes  of  Calais  when  besieged  by  Edward  III. ;  and 
the  orchestra  consisted  of  above  twenty  performers,  as 
close  as  they  could  sit,  who,  together  with  the  actors, 
made  as  much  noise  as  they  could.  The  acting  was  far 
from  bad.  There  again  we  saw  your  neighbors,  Mr. 
Howard  and  his  wife.  In  a  very  handsome  retiring- 
room  they  served  you  with  raspberry  vinegar  and  other 
refreshments.  Adieu,  my  dear  Maria!  Give  my  love 
to  Henry  when  you  see  him,  and  also  Sarah  and  Mrs. 

M f  not  forgetting  the  children  all. 

'  Ever  yours, 

'S.  R. 

'We  have  engaged  a  very  old  chaise  to  Paris  a  la 
Yorick.  We  pay  6/  6/  0 ! ! !  To-morrow  hope  to  sleep  at 
Abbeville.' 

Samuel  Rogers  to  Henry  Rogers, 

*  Hotel  Marigny,  13  Octr.  1802. 

*  Mr  DEAR  Henry,  -r«  By  two  kind  letters  from  Maria 

and  Sarah  I  rejoice  to  think  you  are  all  assembled,  first 

on   your  own  account  and  next  on  my  own,  as  I  hope 

soon  to  rejoin  you,  though  perhaps  at  thig  moment  you 

1  Sutton  Sharpe,  his  eldest  nephew,  afterwards  the  eminent  Queen's 
Counsel,  whose  premature  death  in  1843  disappointed  many  hopes. 


BONAPARTE  AT  A  REVIEW.  37T 

may  be  scattered  over  the  world  again.  As  for  me,  my 
life  is  a  little  better  regulated  and  my  mind  more  col- 
lected, though  every  day  is  a  scene  of  dissipation.  At 
first  I  was  worn  out  before  it  was  half  spent ;  but  my 
spirits  are  now  less  hurried,  and  the  impressions  I  re- 
ceive less  violent  and  frequent :  in  short,  I  begin  to  be 
in  my  sober  senses.  Mr.  Sharpe  must  have  described  a 
fete  when  the  garden  front  of  the  Tuileries  was  illumi- 
nated, and  when,  with  other  consuls,  B.  sat  uncovered 
for  above  twenty  minutes  in  a  balcony  in  the  centre, 
while  an  orchestra  of  above  a  hundred  persons  was 
playing  a  concert  below  in  the  open  air.  On  Thursday 
last  I  was  present  at  a  very  different  spectacle,  —  the 
monthly  review  of  the  troops  which  were  drawn  up, 
horse  and  foot,  before  the  Tuileries  to  the  amount  of 
about  6,000.  At  eleven  an  old-looking  plain  yellow 
coach,  drawn  by  six  blood  bay  horses,  the  coachman  and 
postilion  in  large  cocked  hats,  attended  by  many  guards, 
brought  up  Bonaparte  at  a  great  rate  to  the  door  of  the 
palace  from  St.  Cloud ;  and  a  few  minutes  afterwards, 
an  English  post-chaise  and  four  of  the  same  color,  the 
boys  with  silver-laced  caps,  brought  Madame  Bonaparte. 
At  twelve,  in  a  plain  blue  coat  with  gold  epaulets,  he 
mounted  his  white  horse  (given  to  him  by  the  Emperor) 
most  richly  caparisoned  with  crimson  and  black  and 
gold,  and  attended  by  generals  and  mamelouks,  whose 
rich  and  grotesque  habits  heightened  the  splendor,  rode 
in  a  kind  of  managed  pace  up  and  down  the  several  files 
of  foot  and  horse,  which  were  so  long  and  numerous  that 
he  must  have  ridden  about  a  mile.  He  then  returned 
to  the  centre  within  a  few  yards  of  me  (for  I  was  at  the 
palace  window  next  the  door)  and  the  troops  marched 
by  in  succession  before  him.  It  was  no  sooner  over 
than  six  or  seven  well-dressed  women  (as  indeed  had 
been  the  case  whenever  he  had  stopped  before)  pressed 
round  him  with  petitions  in  their  hands,  which  he  re- 


378  EARLY  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

ceived,  saying  something  to  most  of  them.  He  then 
alighted,  and  on  the  staircase  stopped  several  times  to 
speak  to  the  officers.  I  was  there  alone  among  the  sen-* 
tinels.  His  profile  is  very  strong,  and  his  face  one  dead 
tint  of  yellow,  but  not  disagreeable.  His  eyes  are  of 
light  gray,  and  his  eyebrows  scarcely  distinguishable. 
His  head  has  been  said  by  a  celebrated  portrait-painter 
here  to  be  une  tete  morte,  but  his  countenance  has  a 
cheerful  easy  character,  and  exhibited,  when  I  saw  him, 
no  very  remarkable  degree  of  thought  or  animation, 
though  very  capable  of  expressing  both.  His  manners 
are  very  simple  and  unaffected,  and  he  took  snuff  and 
scratched  his  head  all  day.  It  was  a  very  noisy  and 
splendid  scene,  and  the  windows  and  roofs  of  houses 
were  crowded  with  spectators.  Fox  and  Erskine  dined 
afterwards  at  a  public  dinner  with  him,  and  he  had  a 
long  conversation  with  both.  The  troops  were  very  fine 
men,  and  the  dresses  of  the  different  corps  were  more 
varied  and  picturesque  than  among  us.  The  music  was 
very  loud  and  unaifecting. 

Last  Sunday  I  paid  a  visit  to  Mad*  le  Brun,  the 
painter,  and  admired  the  floor  inlaid  with  precious 
woods.  In  the  evening  I  went  with  Boddington  to 
Mad®  Cabarus,  who  lives  in  a  most  superb  house,  and 
who  received  us  in  a  bedchamber,  not  less  elegant, 
tho'  less  rich,  than  Madame  Recamier's.  Her  beauty 
extinguished  Lady  Oxford  who  was  there,  and  she  gave 
me  an  invitation  to  dinner  every  day  with  her  while  I 
stayed  at  Paris.  I  was  introduced,  I  suspect,  as  a  friend 
of  Lady  Jersey,  and  the  similarity  of  her  life  and  his- 
tory to  that  of  her  ladyship  may  have  rendered  her 
civil  to  her  friends.  Last  night  we  were  again  at  the 
Opera,  and  Vestris  outdid  himself.  Surely  the  troop  of 
French  dancers  are  more  like  gay  creatures  of  the 
element  than  mortals  like  ourselves.  Mr.  Salmon  and 
Mr.  Mallet  are  very  busy  and  very  happy  everywhere. 


LETTERS  FROM  PARIS.  379 

On  Tuesday  we  dined  with  Tallien,  who  was  the  first 
man  in  Paris  for  many  months.  I  afterwards  saw 
Mdlle.  Duchesnois  in  Andromaque,  and  it  was  the  only 
thing  like  acting  I  have  seen  in  Paris.  Adieu,  my  dear 
Henry  !  In  a  day  or  two  I  shall  write  to  Maria.  Give 
my  love  to  Mrs.  M.  and  also  to  M.  and  S.,  and  thank 
them  for  their  kind  letters.  I  am  sorry  you  think  you 
are  disturbing  my  imagination  full  of  pictures,  when 
you  write  to  me. 

*  Ever  yours, 

'S.  R. 

'  Boddington  talks  of  leaving  here  on  Saturday.  Par- 
sons, who  is  sitting  by  me  and  who  is  come  to  Paris, 
desires  to  be  remembered  to  you.  Remember  me  to 
Sharpe.' 

S.  Rogers  to  Maria  Sharpe. 

'Nov.  2,  1802. 

'  My  dear  Maria,  —  I  am  happy  to  learn  from  your- 
self that  you  are  all  assembled  on  the  sea-shore.  Pray 
stay  if  you  can  till  I  arrive,  which  will  now,  I  hope,  be 
in  three  weeks  at  farthest.  Thank  Sarah  for  her  kind 
letter.  In  writing  to  one,  I  write  to  the  other,  for  in 
my  mind  you  are  inseparable ;  and  distance  produces 
only  one  effect  upon  me,  to  attach  me  still  more  strongly 
to  those  I  love.  I  know  there  are  different  opinions 
upon  that  subject,  and  I  have  sometimes  fancied  them 
just  with  regard  to  those  who  maintain  them ;  certainly 
not  so  with  regard  to  myself.  I  could  say  a  great  deal 
on  this  subject,  but  I  know  you  will  expect  other  things 
from  me.  I  forget  where  I  left  off  last.  Mr.  Parring- 
ton  gave  you  a  full  account  of  our  good  fortune,  —  how 
we  stood  on  the  same  stone  step  with  him,  Bonaparte ; 
how  he  looked  at  us  face  to  face ;  and  of  the  various 
events  of  that  eventful  day.  Henry  is  also  in  possession 
of  a  despatch  on  that  subject.     On  the  next,  8th,  I  went 


380  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

to  the  Abbe  Sicard's  lecture,  and  was  very  agreeably 
disappointed;  the  ingenious  and  expressive  countenances 
of  the  boys  would  have  interested  me  for  a  whole  day 
together.  In  the  evening  saw  Tamerlane ;  the  old 
Greek  practice  of  dancing  to  a  chorus  is  very  delightful 
and  affecting  to  me.  I  had  proceeded  so  far  when  I 
was  told  that  Mr.  Fox's  carriage  was  waiting  for  me  ; 
so  away  I  went  with  him  and  Fitzpatrick  and  Mrs. 
Fox,  etc.,  to  the  Luxembourg,  which  Fox  had  a  great 
desire  to  see.  The  next  day  we  saw  the  Gobelins,  the 
garden  of  plants,  and  I  afterwards  dined  with  them, 
where  I  met  my  old  acquaintance  Lafayette,  —  once  a 
sprightly,  petit  maitrish  Frenchman,  now  mellowed  in- 
to a  most  amiable  man,  still  very  handsome,  but  silent, 
thoughtful,  and  melancholy.  Mr.  Fox  has  finished  his 
historical  researches,  and  is  now  seeing  the  sights.  This 
morning,  the  Consul  being  on  a  progress,  I  saw  St.  Cloud, 
a  most  princely  residence  on  the  Seine,  here  a  noble 
river.  The  rooms  are  very  numerous  and  furnished  in 
the  most  costly  manner  with  silk  and  velvet,  porphyry, 
bronze,  and  gold,  but  they  were  more  gaudy  than  rich,  a 
style  affected  in  their  country  houses.  There,  behind  a 
door,  and  among  some  bad  pictures,  hangs  the  Madonna 
della  Sedia,  —  in  very  fine  preservation  and  surpassing, 
indeed,  all  prints  and  copies  of  it.  It  was  not  brilliant, 
but  very  sweet,  and  the  little  elbows  and  shoulders  of 
the  children  were  painted  in  a  way  I  had  no  conception 
of  before.  The  mother's  countenance  rather  fell  short 
of  my  hopes,  which  had  been  raised  extravagantly ;  but  I 
was  hurried  along  with  many  others  who  had  never  heard 
of  such  a  picture,  and  I  hope  to  see  it  again.  Mr.  Lam- 
bert is  arrived  here,  and  not  alone.  He  is  on  his  way  to 
Italy.  Mr.  ISTicholls  and  his  two  daughters  have  also 
spent  a  week  here  on  their  way  to  the  South  of  France. 
They  had  lived  in  my  h6tel  four  days  before  I  found 
them  out.    The  Concannons  are  here,  and  give  grand 


CANOVA,  DAVID,  AND  KOSCIUSKO.  381 

parties  every  week,  to  which  I  have  been  invited,  but  I 
have  not  been.  They  have  Morgan  the  stock-jobber's 
daughters  with  them  !  Mad®  Cabarus  also  opens  her 
house  to-night  in  great  splendor,  but  I  rather  preferred 
Vestris  and  the  Opera.  Here  also  has  arrived,  on  his 
way  from  Kome,  Mr.  Champernowne,  son  of  Mrs.  Har- 
rington of  Clent,  and  as  he  proposes  to  set  off  in  ten 
days  I  have  partly  agreed  to  accompany  him.  Mr.  Bod- 
dington  left  me  last  Wednesday  in  company  with  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Mackintosh,  with  whom  I  was  to  have  returned. 
I  have  heard  from  them  twice  on  the  road,  as  at  every 
stage  they  all  remembered  something  undone.  I  have 
now  the  whole  apartment  to  myself,  and  his  servant 
Gerard  has  fallen  to  me  by  inheritance. 

^  The  galleries  are  still  inexhaustible,  but  the  pain- 
ters are  a  great  loss,  for  no  human  being  enters  into 
one's  feelings  now.  Parsons  has  been  there  twice 
since  he  left  England,  and  Fox  only  three  times  !  I  am 
generally  a  kind  of  cicerone  to  the  new-comers,  being 
almost  always  there.  At  first  sight  it  seems  delightful 
to  introduce  others  for  the  first  time  to  such  things,  but 
you  would  be  soon  sick  of  it.  The  Miss  Morgans  mis- 
took the  Transfiguration  for  some  new  picture,  and  their 
remarks  eclipsed  those  in  '•'  Evelina  "  on  the  pictures  at 
Vauxhall.  I  have  spent  an  evening  with  Canova,  who 
is  come  to  take  a  likeness  of  Bonaparte  for  a  colossal 
statue  to  be  placed  in  the  grand  square  of  Milan.  I  was 
much  pleased  with  him  ;  David  and  Kosciusko  were  also 
there,  as  was  also  Le  Grand,  the  architect  who  built 
the  Cornhall,  —  since  burned  !  He  fondled  a  little  pug 
whelp  in  his  breast  the  whole  time,  and  seemed  a  great 
coxcomb.  In  my  walk  one  evening  I  was  attacked  by 
a  sharper  who  led  me  about  to  see  a  billiard  match  be- 
tween Clotilde  the  opera  dancer  in  men's  clothes  and 
an  Englishman.  He  wearied  my  poor  legs  while  he  was 
extolling  the  symmetry  of  her   form  ;    but   at  last  we 


382  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  HOGERS. 

met  a  man  on  the  staircase  who  said  it  was  put  off  till 
the  morning.  His  intention  was,  it  seems,  to  draw  me 
to  the  gaming-table,  —  for  he  has  since  attacked  Parsons 
and  Fitzpatrick  :  the  last  the  coolest  gamester  in  Europe, 
and  the  first  not  likely  to  risk  his  money.  Surely  he 
must  be  very  green  to  attack  such  men !  I  have  twice 
seen  the  English  taken  off  on  the  stage,  and  I  was  sorry 
to  hear  the  actor  talk  very  much  like  ourselves.  Bod- 
dington,  who  could  not  deny  it,  said  the  actor  was  a 
bad  mimic  and  could  not  talk  ill;  but  the  immoderate 
laughter  of  the  audience  convinced  him  of  the  contrary. 
I  have  seen  "  Puss  in  Boots,"  and  am  told  "  Cinderella  " 
had  a  great  run  last  year. 

^  Adieu,  my  dear  Maria !  Pray  give  my  love  to  all,  and 
a  kiss  sent  across  the  ocean  to  four.  Give  my  kind  love 
to  Patty  and  hers. 

^  To  prevent  a  mistake  I  shall  direct  to  you  in  town. 
*  Ever,  ever  yours, 

*S.  R. 

'Mr.  De  Grave  desires  to  be  remembered  to  you  all. 
Lusignan  lives  in  very  elegant  apartments  near  the 
Palais  Royal,  and  is  a  very  gay  man ;  I  have  not  yet 
seen  him.  The  English  here  are  still  innumerable,  Paris 
being  now  thin  of  fashion ;  at  the  theatres  every  word 
you  overhear  is  English.' 

Samuel  Rogers  to  Henry  Rogers. 

*  Paris,  Dec.  4,  1802. 
*  My  dear  Henry,  —  ...  I  have  now  fixed  my  day 
of  departure.  On  Friday  next,  the  11th  Dec'.,  I  slmll 
turn  my  back  on  the  gayeties  of  Paris,  —  with  some  re- 
gret, but  with  more  pleasure.  In  the  galleries  I  shall 
often  wander  in  imagination,  but  the  days  are  now  so 
dark  and  sad,  with  such  little  intermission,  that  I  have 
lately  found  but  little  enjoyment  there.     I  have  paid  a 


A  DINNER  WITH  M.  DE  LILLE.  383 

morning  visit  to  Mad^  du  Port.  I  was  introduced  by 
De  Grave,  and  received  with  great  civility  as  her  hus- 
band's friend,  under  which  name  I  was  introduced  by 
her  to  her  daughter,  a  very  pretty  girl  of  16.  I  was 
afterwards  told  that  to  see  the  daughter  is  considered 
a  very  great  compliment,  and  indeed  so  she  thought  by 
the  very  marked  manner  in  which  she  promised  me 
that  pleasure  when  she  stepped  out  for  her.  After  a 
few  minutes  she  told  her  "  she  might  retire.''  Mad^  du 
Port  is  certainly  the  most  elegant  and  pleasing  woman 
I  have  seen  in  France,  but  then  I  have  literally  seen 
nobody.  She  is  about  35,  and  still  very  handsome.  I 
understand  that  where  she  lives  (near  the  Bastille,  about 
a  league  from  me)  there  are  above  150  families  in  obscurity 
of  the  most  accomplished  and  best  bred  people  in  France, 
strict  in  their  manners  and  life,  even  beyond  our  Eng- 
lish notions  of  regularity.  I  have  since  paid  a  different 
visit  to  M.  de  Lille  —  no  longer  Abbe  —  now  a  married 
man.  He  received  me  in  a  large  room  in  an  hotel  once 
belonging  to  the  Duke  of  Eichelieu.  There  were  two 
or  three  gentlemen  with  him.  In  a  recess  were  two 
beds  side  by  side.  The  curtains  of  the  nearest  were 
drawn,  and  a  young  lady  was  frequently  called  to  it  by 
whispers,  for  there  in  high  health,  at  two  o'clock,  lay 
Mad®  de  Lille  !  I  have  since  dined  with  them,  and  was 
overwhelmed  with  her  civilities.  The  dinner  was  very 
ill-served,  and  lasted  near  two  hours.  Among  other 
dishes  was  a  roast  hare,  which,  as  she  told  her  French 
friends,  was  given  in  compliment  to  me,  it  being  a  very 
great  rarity  in  England,  and  never  but  at  great  tables. 
After  dinner  she  threw  about  her  some  ugly  and  dirty 
English  doylies,  which  she  also  explained  as  the  English 
fashion,  and  of  which  I  felt  quite  ashamed.  She  con- 
cluded by  making  me  swallow  a  dish  of  strong  green  tea, 
to  remind  me  of  old  England.  I  feel  no  desire  to  repeat 
my  visit,  tho'  I  could  now  enjoy  his  conversation,  which 


384  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

I  had  never  done  before.  I  have  seen  little  of  the  Wm. 
Smiths  for  the  last  fortnight.  Their  feelings  are  indeed 
so  little  in  unison  with  my  own  that  I  keep  out  of  their 
way.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  Edgeworths,  tho' 
they  are  abundant  in  their  civilities.  I  have  lately  looked 
into  several  of  the  bals  bourgeois,  and  with  great  pleasure. 
The  decorum  and  enjoyment  I  have  seen  there  have 
often  sent  me  home  to  bed  with  very  pleasant  feelings. 
Tom  Boddington  is  returned  to  Paris,  and  enjoys  himself 
as  much  as  so  fastidious  a  gentleman  will  allow  himself. 
Last  Monday  I  was  led  by  fatal  curiosity  to  hear  High 
Mass  iu  honor  of  Ste.  Cecilia,  in  the  church  of  St. 
Eustache.  I  departed  before  it  was  half  over,  but  have 
been  confined,  with  intermissions,  ever  since.  Mr.  Cham- 
pernowne  has  gone  directly  by  Havre  and  Southampton 
to  Devonshire,  and  I  shall  now  return  home  with  Mr. 

,  a  very  friendly  pleasant  man,  whom  I  have  known 

slightly  for  some  years.  Happy  is  the  man  who  leaves 
Paris  first !  Mr.  Boddington  and  Mr.  Mackintosh  sent 
me  commissions  twice  on  the  road,  and  Mr.  Champer- 
nowne  has  left  me  twenty  legacies,  to  my  utter  horror 
and  dismay.  Mr.  Fox  has  also  written  from  St.  Anne's, 
to  desire  me,  among  other  things,  to  bring  Mrs.  F.  a 
grate,  shovel,  and  tongs !  I  have  just  heard  an  unex- 
pected piece  of  news,  —  Mr.  Thomas  Hope's  death.  It 
comes  in  a  letter  from  his  brother  Henry,  who  says  a 
merchant  has  written  him  word  of  it  from  Marseilles. 
Adieu,  my  dear  Henry !  Give  my  best  love  to  all,  and 
believe  me 

*  Ever  yours, 

'S.  R. 

'  By  way  of  P.  S.,  I  shall  add  a  few  lines  to  another 
person.  N.  B. — It  is  here  for  the  first  time  committed 
to  paper,  and  I  don't  half  like  it,  now  it  is  written,  so 
forgive  faults. 


LINES  ON  A  STATUE  OF  HERCULES.     385 

'  To  the  Fragment  of  a  Statue  of  Hercules  called  the  Torso  of  the 
Belvidere. 

*  And  dost  thou  still,  thou  mass  of  breathing  stone 
(Thy  giant  limbs  to  night  and  chaos  hurl'd), 
Still  sit  as  on  the  fragment  of  a  world, 
.    Surviving  all,  majestic  and  alone  ? 

"What  though  the  Spirits  of  the  North,  that  swept 
Rome  from  the  earth,  when  in  her  pomp  she  slept, 
Smote  thee  with  fury,  and  thy  headless  trunk 
Deep  in  the  dust,  'mid  tower  and  temple,  sunk ; 
Soon  to  subdue  mankind  't  was  thine  to  rise, 
Still,  still  unquench'd  thy  nobler  energies  ! 
Exalted  minds,  with  thee  conversing,  caught 
Bright  revelations  of  the  Good  they  sought ; 
By  thee  that  long-lost  spell  in  secret  given. 
To  draw  down  Gods,  and  lift  the  soul  to  Heaven.' 

These  lines  are  dated  1808  in  their  published  form. 
The  only  change  made  in  them  in  the  interval  was  the 
substitution  of  ^unquelled  thy  glorious  energies'  for  *  un- 
quench'd thy  nobler  energies,'  and  ^  aspiring  minds  '  for 
^exalted  minds.'  The  request  from  Fox  to  which  he 
alludes,  was  conveyed  in  the  following  letter:  — 

C.  J.  Fox  to  S.  Rogers, 

My  dear  Sir,  —  Mrs.  Fox  says  you  would  willingly 
do  any  commission  for  her,  and  she  has  no  scruple  in 
troubling  you,  1st,  to  go  to  Fonciez's,  the  jeweller.  Rue 
St.  Honore,  and  to  buy  for  her  two  little  carnelian 
hearts,  with  little  rings  and  chains  to  fasten  them  to 
chains  round  the  neck.  Mme.  Fonciez  will  recollect  that 
my  wife  looked  at  them  and  asked  the  price,  it  must  not 
be  more  than  three  louis  9^  each.  2dly,  to  go  to  the 
Palais  Royal,  the  first  or  second  shop  on  the  right  (I 
think)  as  you  go  in,  to  buy  a  pair  of  fire-dogs,  tongs,  and 
shovel,  the  price  all  together  two  louis.    I  meant  to  buy 

25 


386  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

them,  but  said  I  would  call  again,  and  forgot  it.  If  you 
can  bring  these  things  yourself  we  shall  be  much  obliged 
to  you  ;  if  not,  pray  send  the  dogs,  etc.,  to  me  at  Quiliac 
at  Calais.  The  smaller  things  you  will  of  course  bring 
yourself,  or  send  by  some  friend. 

*  If  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  pay  for  them  I  will  settle 
with  you  on  your  return  or  send  an  order  to  Perregaux  ; 
and  for  the  interest  of  your  money  I  know  no  way  to 
pay  you  but  by  insisting  again  on  your  reading  "Isacco," 
which,  when  you  have  done  attentively,  I  trust  you  will 
not  think  of  comparing  "  Douglas  "  with  it. 

*  I  am,  with  great  regard,  dear  Sir, 

*  Yours  ever, 

^C.  J.  Eox. 

*  St.  Anne's  Hill, 

*  18  Nov.,  1802.' 

There  is  a  further  account  of  Eepublican  Paris  in  a 
letter  to  Mrs.  Greg,  wife  of  Mr.  Samuel  Greg  of  Man- 
chester, mother  of  the  late  Mr.  Samuel  Greg  of  Boiling- 
ton,  and  of  Mr.  William  Eathbone  Greg,  author  of 
^The  Creed  of  Christendom,'  and  grandmother  of  Mr. 
William  Rathbone,  now  M.  P.  for  the  northern  division 
of  Carnarvonshire. 

S.  Rogers  to  Mrs.  Greg, 

'Paris,  5  Dec,  1802. 
'My  deak  Mrs.  Greg,  —  You  may  be  surprised  to 
receive  a  letter  from  Paris,  and  yet  from  me  perhaps  it 
will  excite  no  wonder.  Alas — I  have  no  ties  to  fix  me 
anywhere  !  Many  ages  ago,  I  forget  in  what  Olympiad, 
I  received  from  Manchester  what  demands  my  best 
thanks.  Of  the  letter  I  will  say  nothing,  for  it  deserves 
everything.  The  present  was  most  acceptable  also  —  for 
Gesner  was  a  favorite  with  me  in  early  life  — nor  has  he 
even  yet  lost  his  charm.    The  translation  does  honor 


IN  THE  LOUVRE.  387 

to  the  writer,  and  the  preface  is  worthy  of  the  great 
name  you  hint  at.  The  embellishments  are  very  elegant, 
and  you  will  think  me  sincere  when  I  say  so,  for  I  have 
long  had  some  of  the  original  drawings  in  my  possession. 
On  the  13th  of  Sep'  I  set  my  foot  in  France.  At  least 
so  says  my  almanac,  but  my  memory  assures  me  it  was 
two  thousand  years  ago,  so  busy  have  I  been,  though  to 
little  purpose,  since  I  came  here.  Not  but  that  I  was 
disappointed  at  the  little  novelty  I  met  with  on  the  road. 
The  pedler  on  his  ass  and  the  wagoner  with  his  team 
wore  the  same  huge  cocked  hat,  and  the  postilion  had 
his  ear-rings,  his  jack-boots,  his  tobacco-pipe,  his  long 
queue,  his  harness  of  ropes,  and  a  whip  that  smacked 
through  every  note  of  the  gamut.  At  Chantilly  I  wan- 
dered alone  till  dusk  along  half-dismantled  terraces  and 
among  urns  and  lions  fast  covering  with  verdure.  The 
old  chateau  is  no  more,  and  the  stables  were  occupied  by 
a  regiment  of  horse.  The  cathedral  at  Amiens  had  lost 
little  of  its  splendor,  and  many  people  were  saying  their 
masses  in  various  parts  of  it ;  but  the  abbey  of  St.  Denis 
was  filled,  when  I  saw  it,  with  casks  of  American  corn. 
The  royal  monuments  are  removed  to  Paris.  They  are 
ranged  chronologically  with  a  thousand  others  from  dif- 
ferent parts  of  France,  in  the  convent  of  the  little  Augus- 
tines  ;  and  there  in  the  garden  among  cypresses  is  the 
tomb  of  Abelard  and  Eloisa.  It  was  noon  when  I  arrived 
in  Paris ;  and  wandering  about  in  search  of  lodgings,  I 
found  myself  at  the  door  of  the  Louvre.  Who  could 
resist  ?  I  entered  with  other  people,  and  in  an  instant 
stood  mute  in  the  presence  of  the  Marbles  of  the  Capi- 
tol, the  Laocoon,  the  Torso,  and  the  Apollo  Belvidere.  I 
need  not  describe  to  you  what  I  felt  at  the  sight  of  what 
I  had  heard  and  dreamed  of  so  long.  I  walked  about  — 
neither  asleep  nor  awake  —  and  at  last  ascended  a  stair- 
case, where  a  gallery  without  end  opened  itself  before 
me.     It  was,    indeed,    "the  pomp   and  prodigality   of 


388  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

Heaveu."  First  came  the  pictures  of  France,  then  those 
of  Flanders  and  Holland,  then  those  of  Italy.  Altar- 
pieces,  which  singly  gave  celebrity  to  cathedrals  and 
little  cities,  now  hang  side  by  side,  and  in  the  multitude 
are  passed  almost  without  a  glance.  I  spend  hours  every 
day  there.  Things  of  such  excellence  must  be  approached 
by  degrees ;  and  I  can  truly  say  that  the  more  I  look 
the  more  I  admire.  Our  artists,  who  certainly  came  with 
no  favorable  prepossessions,  were  very  agreeably  sur- 
prised at  the  excellent  condition  of  the  pictures;  and 
particularly  of  the  Transfiguration  and  the  St.  Pietro 
Marti  re  of  Titian.  This  morning  I  saw  Eaphael's  St. 
Cecilia  laid  on  its  face,  and  about  to  receive  a  new 
canvas.  The  worm-eaten  board  on  which  it  was  painted 
has  been  cut  away  with  the  knife  (what  excellent  nerves 
there  are  in  France  !)  and  what  I  looked  upon  was  actu- 
ally the  back  of  the  thin  coat  of  paint.  It  is  a  delightful 
reflection  that  the  colors  of  such  a  pencil  can  survive  the 
solid  mass  on  which  they  were  laid,  and  may  be  trans- 
ferred from  surface  to  surface  while  the  world  endures  ! 
The  gallery  is  open  to  the  public  twice  a  week,  —  to 
strangers  every  day,  —  and  so  also  is  the  library,  where 
hundreds  are  sitting  and  reading  constantly,  at  the  tables 
in  the  long  suite  of  rooms,  with  the  greatest  silence  and 
decorlim.  When  you  enter  you  are  struck  with  sur- 
prise at  the  number,  for  from  the  stillness  you  expect 
nobody.  The  bronze  horses  from  Venice  are  placed  over 
the  gates  of  the  Tuileries.  Bonaparte  has  twice  exhib- 
ited himself  to  the  people  since  I  came  here.  Once  at 
his  monthly  review  in  the  Place  du  Carrousel,  when,  on 
his  white  charger  superbly  caparisoned  and  surrounded 
by  mamelouks  and  general  officers,  he  rode  up  and  down 
the  ranks  of  six  thousand,  horse  and  foot.  At  every 
turn  he  received  petitions,  which  were  delivered  into  his 
hand  by  many  well-dressed  people,  some  of  whom  he 
questioned  as  he  ran  his  eyes  over  the  papers.    And  once 


PERSONAL  APPEARANCE  OF  BONAPARTE.   389 

again,  on  the  evening  of  a  festival,  when  the  garden 
ifront  of  the  Tuileries  was  illuminated,  and  when,  between 
the  two  other  consuls,  he  sat  uncovered  in  a  balcony  in 
the  centre  for  above  half  an  hour,  taking  snuff  contin- 
ually, while  an  orchestra  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  perform- 
ers played  and  sang  in  the  open  air  immediately  under 
him.  At  his  levees  he  is  more  inclined  to  talk  than  to 
listen,  which  is  the  case  you  will  say  with  some  other 
great  people  ;  but  his  manners  are  very  simple  and  pleas- 
ing. His  profile  is  very  striking  and  elegant,  but  his 
eyes  are  of  a  light  gray,  and  his  eyebrows  scarcely  dis- 
tinguishable ;  and  his  face  is  overspread  with  one  dead 
yellow  tint.  His  head,  to  use  the  expression  of  a  cele- 
brated painter  here,  is  une  tete  de  mort,  —  but  it  is  the 
head  of  a  giant.  He  measures "  in  height  but  five-feet- 
five  ;  but  his  hat,  when  he  has  left  it  on  the  table,  as  I 
have  been  assured  by  those  about  him,  has  moved  round 
the  head  of  the  tallest  and  most  robust  general  in  his 
army.  He  lives  entirely  at  St.  Cloud,  which  overhangs 
the  Seine,  and  is  fitted  up  most  sumptuously  with  gold 
and  porphyry  and  bronze.  He  travels  very  fast,  attended 
by  guards,  in  a  plain  old-fashioned  yellow  coach  and  six 
blood  horses,  his  servants  wearing  cocked  hats ;  but  M* 
B.'s  carriage  is  a  light  chaise  and  four  a  la  mode  Angloise. 
It  is  singular  to  see  a  postilion  on  a  blood  horse  under 
an  immense  cocked  hat.  I  wish  I  could  give  you  a 
tableau  de  Paris.  But  where  shall  we  begin  ?  with  the 
narrow  streets,  where  the  approach  of  a  voiture,  or  of  a 
cabriolet  with  its  tinkling  bell,  and  its  cry  of  "  Garde ! 
Garde ! "  produces  a  flight  and  a  rout ;  or  with  the 
squares  and  bridges,  where  an  array  of  shoe-blacks,  for- 
midable in  number  and  outcry,  salute  you  with  "  Ici  on 
tond  des  chiens  et  coupe  les  oreilles  aux  chiens  et  chats  ;"  or 
shall  we  walk  in  the  Tuileries  Gardens,  where  there  are 
more  statues  than  trees  ;  or  shall  we  look  into  the  hah 
bourgeois^  where  a  hundred  couples  waltz  nightly ;  or  are 


390  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

you  inclined  for  a  spectacle?  Will  you  see  ^^Puss  in 
Boots"  wash  her  whiskers  with  her  paws,  as  she  does 
every  evening  on  the  Boulevards,  to  the  delight  of  all 
the  grown  children ;  or  shall  I  introduce  you  to  Mdlle. 
Duchesnois,  who  was  crowned  last  night  in  Phedre  amidst 
tears  and  acclamations  ?  No,  rather  come  with  me  and 
admire  "  those  gay  creatures  of  the  element,"  the  corys  de 
ballet,  who  will  enchant  you  with  their  delicate  move- 
ments, and  with  their  beautiful  groups  in  groves  and 
caverns  and  among  the  "  plighted  clouds."  Vestris  is 
still  himself,  though  his  mistress,  a  celebrated  dancer, 
died  last  week — and  was  refused  burial  by  the  cure; 
who,  however,  was  suspended  for  it  by  the  Archbishop  of 
Paris.  Perhaps,  most  of  all,  I  have  wished  for  you  in  the 
Abbe  Sicard's  "  Academy  of  Deaf  and  Dumb."  What  in- 
genuous and  speaking  countenances,  and  what  triumph 
in  their  eyes,  when  they  catch  and  write  on  the  wall  the 
ideas  communicated  to  them !  The  furniture  here  is 
very  elegant,  and  j^our  old  friend  Mad^  Eecamier  out- 
shines the  Consul  himself.  Her  bath  and  bedchamber 
are  hung  with  silks  of  many  colors,  and  lighted  with 
aromatic  lamps  and  alabaster  vases.  Her  bed  is  an 
Etruscan  couch,  and  every  table  is  supported  by  cary- 
atides in  bronze  and  gold.  But  you  must  now  wish  to 
return  to  England.  What  a  sad  variety  of  smells  there 
is  in  Paris  !  Surely  snuff-taking  is  an  act  of  self-defence 
here ;  and  what  effluvia  from  the  kitchens,  morning,  noon, 
and  night !  Who  would  refuse  his  assent  here  to  the 
definition  that  "  man  is  a  cooking  animal "  ?  The  paint- 
ers and  lawyers  are  returned  to  London,  and  are  suc- 
ceeded by  a  flight  of  fashionables  from  Spa.  The  Wm. 
Smiths  are  here  ;  and  also  the  Edge  worths  ;  but  I  fear  I 
am  growing  unfit  for  society,  for  I  can  find  none  whose 
feelings  are  in  unison  with  my  own,  and  a  solitary  walk 
along  the  Boulevards,  and  a  tete-a-tete  with  the  Apollo  or 
the  Transfiguration,  are  my  greatest  consolations.     Pray 


THE  FRENCH  AND  PARIS.  391 

remember  me  particularly  to  Mr.  G.,  who  will  elucidate 
any  obscurities  in  this  long  letter ;  and  to  each  and  to  all 
of  your  little  society,  not  forgetting  my  dearest  friend 
Betsy.  Tell  her  I  have  played  the  same  part  in  Paris 
which  she  played  in  London  last  spring,  but  with  much 
less  eclat.  In  less  than  a  fortnight  I  shall  return  to  Lon- 
don with  much  regret,  but  with  more  pleasure.  The 
French  are  a  lively  and  clever  people.  Of  their  morals  I 
shall  say  nothing,  though  there  are  many  noble  excep- 
tions. In  the  comforts  of  life  they  are  many  centuries 
behind  us,  but  in  its  elegancies  they  have  no  rivals ;  and 
in  their  liberality  to  strangers  they  are  models  for  the 
rest  of  the  world.  I  have  taken  much  pleasure  in  the  en- 
virons of  Paris ;  the  little  hills  covered  with  vineyards 
wear  still  the  last  red  tint  of  autumn,  and  the  sight  of  a 
great  city  with  no  smoke  over  it  is  to  an  Englishman  a 
phenomenon.  It  is  singular,  too,  that  I  recollect  no  wind 
through  the  equinox  here,  —  a  turbulent  visitor  I  could 
well  dispense  with  in  our  island.  In  the  Palais  Royal 
the  gaming  yields  immense  sums  to  the  revenue.  There 
are  many  tables  open  from  12  at  noon  till  8  in  the  morn- 
ing, surrounded  by  young  and  old  of  both  sexes.  I  hate 
the  sight  of  their  illuminated  windows  as  I  return  home 
in  an  evening.  In  many  of  the  coffee-houses  there  are 
orchestras  of  music  which  continue  playing  and  singing 
with  terrible  fury  from  dusk  till  midnight.  In  the  "  Cafe 
des  Aveugles  "  there  is  a  band  of  blind  men  and  women, 
a  melancholy  spectacle,  and  in  some  of  the  caveaux,  or 
cellars,  little  dramas  are  acted  to  allure  company.  In 
the  theatres  all  now  sit  in  the  parterre,  a  change  effected 
by  the  Revolution ;  nor  could  Yorick  now  address  them 
with  "  In  England  we  sit  more  at  our  ease."  Every 
woman  here  carries  her  pocket-handkerchief  on  her  arm 
in  a  kind  of  work-bag ;  and  I  have  seen  dirty  nursery 
girls  with  a  tottering  infant  in  one  hand  and  their  ridi- 
cule in  the  other.     The  houses  have  no  verandas,  and 


392  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

the  window  curtains  are  of  two  different  colors,  crossing 
each  other,  which  have  a  very  rich  and  lively  effect.  But 
I  have  now  exhausted  my  paper  and  your  patience. 
Adieu,  once  more !  You  see  I  have  not  forgotten  you, 
though  a  sea  lies  between  us,  and  many  a  province  and 
many  a  field  of  battle. 

^  Your  ever  affectionate  friend, 

'Samuel  Eogers. 

'Mr.  Fox  has  left  us,  to  my  great  regret.  He  was 
delighted  beyond  measure.' 

Eogers  was  much  with  Fox  during  this  visit  to  Paris, 
when  some  of  the  conversations  recorded  in  the  '  Recol- 
lections '  ^  took  place.  Walking  in  the  Louvre  they  one 
day  met  Mackintosh,  whom  Fox  passed  with  a  nod  and 
the  briefest  of  salutations,  telling  Eogers  he  was  angry 
with  Mackintosh  for  accepting  the  place  in  India  offered 
him  by  a  Tory  Government.  But  General  Eichard  Fitz- 
patrick,  whom  Eogers  met  at  Fox's  dinner-table,  as  well 
as  at  the  Luxembourg  and  the  Gobelins,  told  Eogers  that 
their  wives  were  at  the  bottom  of  the  coolness.  Fox  had 
lately  publicly  acknowledged  Mrs.  Armstead,  to  whom 
he  had  been  married  privately  in  1795,  as  his  wife,  and 
Mrs.  Mackintosh  had  not  paid  her  a  formal  call.  A  fort- 
night before  Eogers  arrived  in  Paris  Fox  had  dined  with 
Bonaparte,  when  the  First  Consul  had  told  him  that  some 
persons  thought  Windham  had  assisted  in  the  plot  to 
blow  him  up  by  an  infernal  machine.  Fox  told  Eogers 
that  he  had  energetically  protested  that  the  suspicion 
was  a  libel  on  Windham,  and  that  no  Englishman  would 
mix  himself  up  in  such  a  business.  Eogers  afterwards 
told  Windham  what  Fox  had  said  in  his  vindication, 
and  Windham  replied  that  he  would  have  done  the  same 

for  Fox. 

J  Recollections,  pp.  20-28,  35. 


PREPARING  HIS  NEW  HOME.  393 

The  next  conversation  with  Fox  recorded  in  the  '  Recol- 
lections '  is  dated  January,  1803,  and  took  place  during  a 
visit  of  Rogers  to  Fox  at  St.  Anne's,  ^  a  small  low  white 
house  on  the  brow  of  a  hill  commanding  a  semicircular 
sweep,  rich  and  woody.'  Rogers  was  then  busily  occupied 
in  preparing  his  new  home,  and  he  puts  on  record  Fox's 
remarks  that  a  distance  is  essential  to  a  house,  and  that 
the  Green  Park  is  the  best  situation  in  London. 

The  bow  windows  of  Rogers's  new  house  looked  over 
the  Green  Park.  He  was  fitting  it  up  with  great  care. 
He  had  made  notes  of  household  arrangements  he  had 
seen  in  houses  in  which  he  had  visited ;  had  given  much 
study  to  questions  of  decoration  and  ornament ;  and  had 
designed  the  furniture  himself,  with  the  assistance  of 
Hope's  work  on  the  subject.  The  mantel-piece  in  the 
drawing-room  was  executed  by  Flaxman,  who  superin- 
tended the  general  decoration  of  the  walls  and  the 
ceiling.  Stothard  designed  a  cabinet  for  antiquities, 
ornamenting  it  with  paintings  by  his  own  hand.  By  an 
accident  it  happened  that  some  of  the  wood-carving  in 
the  dining-room  was  executed  by  Chantrey.  Rogers  only 
knew  this  five-and-twenty  years  afterwards,  when  Chan- 
trey had  become  famous.  Much  of  the  work  was  done 
under  Rogers's  personal  supervision;  and  with  drawing 
in  hand  he  one  day  received  a  journeyman  sent  by  a 
wood-carver  to  execute  some  ornamentation  on  a  side- 
board in  the  dining-room.  At  dinner,  long  afterwards, 
in  the  same  room,  Chantrey,  pointing  to  the  sideboard, 
asked  Rogers  whether  he  remembered  the  circumstance, 
and  Rogers,  who  never  forgot  anything,  recollected  it 
clearly.  '  Well,'  said  Chantrey,  ^  I  was  that  journeyman.' 
The  furniture  and  decoration  followed  the  Greek  models, 
and  one  of  the  striking  features  of  the  house  was  its 
large  and  beautiful  collection  of  Greek  vases.  ^  Round 
the  staircase,'  says  his  nephew, '  was  added  a  frieze,  taken 
from  the  Panathenaic  procession  among  the  Elgin  mar- 


394  EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 

bles.'  Rogers's  long  studies  in  the  Louvre  in  tlie  pre- 
vious autumn  had  done  much  to  complete  the  formation 
of  that  perfect  taste  which  found  expression  in  the  fur- 
niture and  decoration  of  his  house. 

A  contemporary  account  of  Rogers,  of  his  house,  and 
of  the  company  he  gathered  in  it,  is  given  by  Dr.  Burney 
in  his  diary  under  the  date  of  the  1st  of  May,  1804. 
Dr.  Burney  says  of  Rogers  that  ^  he  is  a  good  poet,  has 
a  refined  taste  in  all  the  arts,  has  a  select  library  of  the 
best  editions  of  the  best  authors  in  all  languages,  has 
very  fine  pictures,  very  fine  drawings,  and  the  finest 
collection  of  Etruscan  vases  I  ever  saw ;  and  moreover, 
he  gives  the  best  dinners  to  the  best  company  of  men  of 
talents  and  genius  I  know ;  the  best  served,  and  with  the 
best  wines,  liqueurs,  etc.  .  .  .  His  books  of  prints  of  the 
greatest  engravers  from  the  greatest  masters  in  history, 
architecture,  and  antiquities,  are  of  the  first  class.  His 
house  in  St.  James's  Place,  looking  into  the  Green  Park, 
is  deliciously  situated,  and  furnished  with  great  taste.' 

This  account  of  Rogers's  house  and  parties  in  1804 
may  be  compared  with  a  description  written  by  Charles 
Sumner,  the  American  Senator,  in  a  letter  to  G.  S. 
Hillard,  thirty-five  years  later,  in  January,  1839  :  '  You 
have  often  heard  of  Rogers's  house.  It  is  not  large, 
but  the  few  rooms  —  two  drawing-rooms  and  a  dining- 
room  only  —  are  filled  with  the  most  costly  paintings, 
all  from  some  of  the  great  galleries  of  Italy  or  elsewhere, 
most  of  which  cost  five  or  ten  thousand  dollars  apiece. 
I  should  think  there  were  about  thirty  in  all ;  perhaps 
you  will  not  see  in  the  world  another  such  collection  in 
so  small  a  space.  There  was  a  little  painting  by  Raphael, 
about  a  foot  square,  of  the  Saviour  praying  in  the  Gar- 
den, brimful  of  thought  and  expression,  which  the  old 
man  said  he  should  like  to  have  in  his  chamber  when 
dying.  There  were  masterpieces  by  Titian,  Correggio, 
Caracci,  Guido,  Paul  Veronese,  Rubens,  Barocchio,  Giotto, 


'THE  LIFE  OF  SATISFIED  DESIRES.'  395 

and  Eeynolds.  He  pointed  out  the  picture  of  an  armed 
knight,  which  Walter  Scott  always  admired.  His  port- 
folios were  full  of  the  most  valuable  original  drawings. 
There  were  all  Flaxman's  illustrations  of  Homer  and 
the  Tragedians,  as  they  left  the  pencil  of  the  great 
artist.  Indeed,  he  said  that  he  could  occupy  me  for 
a  month,  and  invited  me  to  come  and  breakfast  with 
him  any  morning  that  I  chose,  sending  him  word  the 
night  before.'  • 

Kogers  had  now  cut  himself  entirely  free  from  busi- 
ness. His  youngest  brother  Henry  had  become  the 
active  partner  and  working  head  of  the  banking  firm, 
and  there  was  no  occasion  for  the  chief  partner  to 
trouble  himself  with  its  concerns.  His  income,  though 
not  large,  was  sufficient  for  one  who  had  only  a  bachelor's 
establishment  to  maintain,  and  who  led  'fhe  life  of 
satisfied  desires.'  He  had  no  expensive  habits  beyond 
those  which  sprang  from  a  determination  to  make  his 
house  the  ideal  abode  of  the  man  of  taste  and  the  man 
of  letters.  He  had  not  even  the  ambition  to  become  the 
patron  of  poor  authors,  though  circumstances  were  con- 
tinually forcing  that  duty  on  him.  His  wish  was  to 
surround  himself  with  what  was  best,  and  he  chose  his 
friends  as  he  chose  his  pictures  and  his  furniture,  —  for 
their  quality  in  this  noblest  sense.  It  soon  became 
known  that  the  charming  house  in  St.  James's  Place, 
about  which  society  was  talking,  was  open  to  all  who 
had  a  claim  to  be  regarded  as  men  of  letters,  or  artists, 
or  wits,  or  statesmen :  though  of  the  latter,  it  was  chiefly 
the  Whigs  who  found  themselves  at  home. 


INDEX. 


A  GLAND,  Mr.,  353. 
-^    Adams,  John,  103,  243. 
Ad61e,  Princess,  215. 
'Adventurer,'  the,  268,  269. 
Aikin,  Dr.,  69,  216,  229,  230,  232, 
281,  291,  308,  329,  333. 

Miss,  71. 

Aix,  Bishop  of,  233. 
Allen,  John,  370. 
Amiens,  Peace  of,  284,  373. 
Amory,  Rev.  Dr.,  18. 
Amphlett,  Mr.,  40. 
Anderson,  Dr.,  85,  359. 

Mr.,  353. 

Andrews,  Miles  P.,  263. 
'Anti-Jacobin,'  331,  332. 
'Anti-Jacobin  Review,'  346. 
'Antiquarian  Society,'  216. 
Armstead,  Mrs.,  231,  305,  329,  392. 
Armstrong,  267. 
Ash,  Dr.,  19,  212. 
Ashburton,  Lord,  31. 


'  "nACHELOR,  The,'  371. 
^    Baillie,' Joanna,  70,  71,  146. 

Dr.  M.,  71,  147. 

Ball,  Hannah,  41. 
Bancroft,  Dr.,  233. 
Bank  partnership,  71,  72. 
Banks,  Sir  J.,  214. 
Barbauld,  Mrs.,  62,  63,  69,  70,  138, 
177,  184,  268,  284,  348. 

poetic  appeal,  178. 

Baring,  Mr.,  347,  370. 


Baring,  Sir  F.,  281,  329,  353. 
Barker,  Mrs.,  12,  14. 
Barnave,  114,  118,  120. 
Barr^,  Colonel,  28,  263. 
Barrington,  Daines,  216. 
Barry,  Madame  du,  266. 
Barwell,  271. 
Barwis,  Jackson,  231. 
Bates,  Dr.,  216,  230,  231. 
Bathurst,  Dr.  R.,  269. 
Bearcroft,  43,  273. 
Beattie,  Dr.,  149. 
Beattie's  'Edwin,'  51. 
Bedford,  Duchess  of,  30. 

Duke  of,  266,  280. 

Bennet,  Major,  75. 

Bentley,  Dr.,  213. 

Berthon,  Mrs.,  20. 

Bessborough,  Lord,  337. 

Bewick,  217. 

Birches,  the  Miss,  16. 

Birmingham  riots,  176-181. 

Black,  Dr.,  146. 

Blair,  Dr.,  79,  81,  83,  84,  91,  147, 

193. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.,  40. 

Blake,  231. 

Blanc  (actor),  56. 

Blanchisserie,  215. 

Boddington,  S.,  106,  121,  144,  217, 

218,  286,  293,  303,  357,  371,  378, 

379,  381,  384. 
Boehm,  231. 

Bonaparte,  373,  377,  378,  388,  392. 
Bosanquet,  20. 


398 


EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 


Boswell,  47,  148,  235,  271,  272. 
Bouche  de  Fer,  Society,  129. 
Bowles,  Martha,  71. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.,  15. 

Boyd,  121. 

Brignola,  Marquis,  307. 

Marchesa,  288. 

Bristol  election  of  1781,  37,  38. 

Bristow,  Mrs.,  305. 

Broadhead,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  231. 

Brogden,  281,  329. 

Brougham,  370. 

Browne,  Captain,  214. 

Bruce,  85. 

Brydges,  Sir  Egerton,  71,  186. 

Bunker  Hill,  battle  of,  29. 

Burgh,  7,  9,  15,  16. 

Burke,  E.,  100,  117,  152  n.  266,269, 

335. 
Burney,  Dr.,  394. 
Burns,  Robert,  96,  97,  148,  193. 
Burroughs,  18. 
Butler,  235. 
Byron,  Lord,  138,  191,  207. 


pABARUS,  Madame,  378,  381. 
^  'Cadell,  30,  59, 147, 148, 185,  364. 
Cadogan,  Dr.,  147. 
Campbell,  General,  121. 

Thomas,  207,  211. 

Canissy,  Madame  de,  119. 
Canova,  381. 
Cardigan,  Lady,  354. 
Carr,  231. 

Lady  C,  343. 

Carrington,  Lord,  304,  305. 
Casamajor,  367. 
Catloe,  Rev.  Mr.,  95. 
Chabot,  121,  122. 
Champernowne,  374,  381,  384. 
Chantrev,  393. 

Mrs.,  343. 

Chapel  ier,  122. 

Chatelet,  Due  de,  116,  117,  121,  122, 
129. 

M.,  122. 

Chatelleux,  de,  233. 
Chatham,  Lord,  271,  279. 


Chesterfield,  Lord,  270. 

Christie,  230. 

Clark,  Lady,  307. 

Cleaver,  Miss,  305. 

Clermont-Tonnerre,  114, 120. 

Clifford,  Lord,  93. 

Clifton  in  1791,  176. 

Clifton,  Sir  Gervase,  74. 

Cline,  286. 

'  Club  Monarchique,'  122,  127. 

'Club,  Mv,' 275. 

'Club  of  89,'  119,  122,  129. 

Cockburn,  9,  16. 

Coleridge,  S.  T.,  60,  101,  192. 

Collier,  Joseph,  43. 

Collins,  W.,  266,  267. 

Colman,  269. 

George,  56. 

Colton,  Rev.  C,  334. 
'Columbus,'  298. 
Combe,  W.,  356,  357  n. 
'Commonplace  Book,'  327,  371. 
Concannon,  300,  305,  380. 
Condorcet,  Madame  de,  119, 123, 150. 

M.  de,  119,  120,  122. 

'Conquerors  of  Bastille,'  127. 
'  Convalescent  de  Quality,'  124. 
Cooper,  229,  230,  232,  250,  251. 
Copenhagen  Fields  meeting,  279. 
Coquerel,  Athanase,  69. 

Ath.,  Jr.,  69. 

Corporation  of  London,  30. 
Costello,  '238. 
Cottle,  60,  74. 
Courtenay,  281,  329. 
Coventrj-  election,  35-39. 
Cowley, 'Mrs.,  185,  263. 
Cowper,  52,  190,  191,  211,  309. 
Coxe,  Dr.,  1. 

W.  (author),  1. 

Coyte,  Dr.,  77. 

Crabbe,  Rev.  G.,  207. 

Crawford,  Dr.,  229. 

Cri.«p,  Miss,  12. 

*  Critical  Review,'  60,  185,  186. 

Cruger,  38,  39. 

Cumberland,  Duke  of,  31,  237,  271. 

Richard,  212,  213,  246,  247,303, 

355. 


INDEX. 


399 


DACRE,  Lord,  216. 
D'Alembert,  115, 216. 
'  Dashwold,'  238. 
Daubeny,  38,  39. 
Day,  G.',  148. 
De  Grave,  382. 

Lille,  383. 

Liniie,  74. 

Delia  Cruscans,  the,  153,  154,  191. 

De  Moivre,  28. 

Derby,  Lord,  281. 

Ddsiles,  119. 

Deyverdun,  307. 

*  Diary  of  a  Lover  of  Literature,'  313. 

Dilly,  212,  213,  235. 

Dorset,  Lord,  93. 

Douglas,  Dr.,  93,  216,  270. 

Dryden,  42,  52. 

Ducarell,  353. 

Dufferin,  Lady,  325. 

Dumont,  244. 

Dundas,  252,  253. 

Dunning,  28. 

Dupont,  117. 

Du  Port,  Madame,  383. 

Dyce,  Rev.  A.,  21,  32,  48,  55,  56,  59, 

66,  97,   142,   144  n.,   181,  233  n., 

252  n.,  264,  334,  373. 
Dyer,  G.,  267. 
John, 163  n. 


EARTHQUAKE  in  1749,  3. 
^  Edgeworth,  44,  384,  390. 
'Edinburgh  Review,'  181,  186,  299, 

318,  324. 
Edison,  216. 

Edwards,  Brvan,  358,  370. 
Eldon,  Lord,  211. 
Ellis,  George,  368  n. 
'Emily  Montagu,'  305. 
Enfield,  Dr.,  62,  291. 
England,  South  of,  in  1792, 218,  228. 
♦Epilogue,'  256-259. 
'Epistle  to  a  Friend,'  246,  255,  308- 

312. 

criticism  on,  313-316. 

Erskine,   Lord,  102,   106,   231,   240, 

252,  295,  328,  330,  332,  373,  378. 


Este,  154, 185. 

'Eumelean  Club,' 235. 

'  European  Magazine,'  274,  275. 

Ewer,  77. 

Exmouth  in  1800,  352-355. 


JPALMOUTH,  Lord,  271. 
■*•      Farmer,  Rev.  Mr.,  15. 
Farrington,  373,  379. 
Favell,  293. 
F^nelon,  135. 
'Fdnelon,'248. 
Ferriar,  Dr.,  347. 
Field,  Rev.  W.,  18  n. 

E.  W.,  18  n. 

Fingal,  grave  of,  87. 
Fitzgerald,  Lady  E.,  232. 
Fitzpatrick,  General,  380,  382,  383, 

392. 
Flaxman,  217,  327,  373,  393. 
Foote,  237,  238,  263. 
Forbes,  General,  369. 
Fox,  Caroline,  245. 
C.  J.,  102,  214,  215,  242,  255, 

278-283,   305,  329-332,    333,   335, 

378,  380,  381,  385,  392. 
Francis,  Sir  P.,  102,  281,  329. 
Franklin,  Dr.,  28,  118,  127,  232,  233, 

234,  270. 
Fredley  Farm,  326,  362. 
French  Revolution,  101, 102. 

English  feeling  about,  102. 

'  Friends  of  the  People,'  216,  239, 251. 
'From  Euripides,'  362. 
Fuseli,  266,  267,  373. 


GARDINER,  Sir  R.,  285. 
Garrick,  D.,  152,  231,  238,  246, 

247,  263  n.,  270. 
Garshore,  Dr.,  230. 
'  Gentleman's  Magazine,'  46,  345. 
Gibbon,  30,  83,  307. 
GifEord,  153,  154,  191,  249,  330. 
Gillies,  Dr.  John,  230,  233,  262, 275. 
Gilpin,  Rev.  W.,  81,  90,  205,  225, 

226,  228,  309,    313-321,    360-362, 

364,  369,  374. 


400 


EARLY  LITE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 


Glyn,  Sir  R.,  16. 
Goldsmith,  51,  52. 
Gordon,  Lord  George,  121. 

Riots,  33. 

Gower,  Lord,  115. 
Grandison,  Sir  C,  150. 
Grant,  Dr.,  13. 

Miss,  306. 

Grattan,  H.,  326. 

Grav,  Thomas,  23,  51,  52,  81,  210, 

270,  346. 
Greg,  Mrs.,  386. 

Samuel,  386. 

W.  Rathbone,  386. 

Grenet,  Abb6, 113,  114,  214. 
Grey,  Charles,  102,  240. 
Grieve,  Dr.,  13. 
Griffiths,  Dr.,  213,  233, 269. 
Guizot  (quoted),  259. 


HACKNEY  College,  67,  74,  333. 
Haldimand,  Miss,  305. 
Halifax,  Sir  T.,  35,  37. 
Hallam,  H.,  370. 
Hamilton,  Duke  of,  270. 

Lady,  232. 

*  Single  speech,'  83. 

Hampden,  Lord,  270. 
Hampstead  assemblies,  69,  70, 184. 
Hanson,  Mrs.,  20. 
Harnett,  417. 
Harris,  Mary,  1. 

Samuel,  1. 

Hawkesworth,  Dr.,  26S,  269. 
Hayley,  W.,  190,  214,  228. 
Hayward,  A.,  25,  49,  181,  186,  207, 

208,    209,   252  ».,   299,   324,   325, 

328. 
Henry,  Rev.  Philip,  2,  3 

Rev.  Matthew,  2,  3. 

Herbert,  Nicholas,  84. 
'Heroic  Epistle,'  267. 
Heywood,  Mrs.,  95. 

Serjeant,  281,  329. 

'Hill,  The,'01dSwinford,4. 
Hinkley,  232. 
Holloway,  217. 
Holroyd,  J.  B.,  35,  37. 


Hoole,  212,  214,  291. 

Hope,  304,  384. 

Hoppner,   J.,    272,    285,    286,    370, 

373. 
Horner,  Francis,  244,  331,  370. 
Horsley,  Bishop,  268. 

Mrs.,  305. 

Hottingue,  M.,  116. 
Howard,  John,  233. 

Mrs.,  375,  376 

Hoyle,  Rev.  Mr.,  3. 
Hulton,  8. 

Hume,  D.,  84,  215,  265. 
Hunt,  Leigh,  324. 

Miss,  306. 

Hutton,  Dr.,  85. 


TNCLEDON  (the  actor),  56. 
-'-  'Indefatigable,' the,  285. 
Independence,  Declaration  of,  29. 


JACKSON,  W.,  342,  346,  349-352, 
^     356. 

'Jacobin  Club,'  122,  123,  127. 
Jeffrey,  F.,  370. 
Jekyll,  267. 
Jerningham,  147,  148,  149,  150,  151, 

154. 
Jersey,  Lady,  296,  297,  327,  355. 
Johnson  (actor),  56. 
Dr.,  17,  46,  47,  146,  147,  149, 

153,  266,  269,  272,  289. 
Johnstone,  Dr.  E.,  273. 
'  Julia  deRoubign^,' 98. 
'Junius,'  83. 


KEAY,  106,  116,  117, 119, 120,  127, 
128,  129,  130,  131. 
K^ralio,  Mdlle.de,  115,  116  ». 

M.  de,  115. 

King,  Lord,  370. 

'  King  of  Clubs,'  the,  348,  370,  371. 

Kippis,  Rev.  Dr.,  67,  68,  78,  79,  80, 

148, 150,  184,  240. 
Knight,  Richard,  5,  47. 

R.  Payne,  5,  370. 

Thomas  Andrew,  5. 


r~) 


INDEX. 


401 


LABOUCHfiRE,  Mrs.,  343. 
Lafavette,  106,   116,   117,    118, 

126,  129,  141,  380. 

Madame  de,  116,  117,  118. 

'La  Libert^  conquise,'  119. 

*L'amant  femme  de  chambre,'  123. 

Lamb,  Charles,  6,  10. 

Lambton,  W.  H.,  240,  281,  329. 

Lansdowne,  Lord,  280. 

La  Rive  (actor),  121. 

Lauderdale,  Lord,  236,  281,  329,  332. 

Lawley,  75. 

Lawrence,  Sir  Thomas,  66. 

'Leasowes,'  the,  5. 

Le  Breton,  Mrs.,  70. 

'  Le  Jaloux  sans  Amour,'  118. 

Lenox,  Colonel,  78. 

Lexington,  Battle  of,  29. 

Liancourt,  Due  de,  115,  122,  123. 

Lindsey,  Rev.  Theophilus,  32,  41. 

Lisle,  15. 

Loughborough,  Lord,  149. 

Louis  XVI.,  125. 

Loyd,  Jones,  33. 

Lubbock,  Sir  John,  372. 

Lucan,  Lady,  303,  306. 

Lysons,  S.,  212,  216,  257. 

Lyttelton,  Mr.,  13. 

George,  5. 

Lord,  19,  28,  234,  259,  263  n., 

357. 


MACAULAY,  Lord,  153,  190. 

■"-*-    Mackenzie,  Henry,  79,  82,  84, 

96,  98,  99,  144-150. 

Miss,  99. 

Mackintosh,    Sir  J.,  102,  103,  208, 

240,  244,  263-265,   266,  278,   329, 

334,  335,  370,  371,  381,  384,  392. 
Mail  coaches,  40,  41. 
Mailly,  Abb^,  129. 
Maitland,  19. 
Maltbv,  William,  26,  43,  46,  62, 141, 

187,  243,  253,  364,  370. 
'Man  of  Feeling,'  the,  79,  98. 
'  Man  of  the  World,'  the,  98. 
Manners,  General,  306. 
Mansfield,  Lord,  200,  201,  237. 


Marie  Antoinette,  125. 

Marmontel,  114,  135,  216. 

Marsden,  216,  230. 

Marsh,  216. 

Martin,  James,  231. 

Mason,  267,  274,  364. 

Mathias,  T.  J.,  291,  336,  337. 

Matthew,  300,  303. 

Maury,  Abbd,  112,  115. 

McGowan,  84. 

McMurdo,  232. 

'Melampus,  The,'  284. 

Merry,  Robert,  91, 147, 148,  150, 151, 

153,  154,  187,  249,  251. 
Mill,  John,  245. 
Millar,  269. 
Millingen,  374. 

Mirabeau,  106, 117,  118,  119,  215. 
Mitchell,  Mary,  13,  16,  18,  24,  260. 

Paul,  24. 

Mitford,  Rev.  John,  142. 

Sir  John,  330. 

Monboddo,  Lord,  147,  149, 150. 
Monfort,  Major,  214,  216. 
Montagu,  Mrs.,  27,  152. 
'Monthly  Review,'  60,  186,  269,323. 
Moore,  Dr.,  96,  97, 138-142,  148, 151, 

214,  260,  283,  284,  338,  357,  358, 

359. 

Dr.  Carrick,  374. 

Graham,  138,  214,  284. 

James,  360. 

Sir  John,  23,  138,  359. 

Tom,  191. 

'Mordaunt,'  348,354. 
Morgan,  George,  291. 

Lady,  297,  319. 

William,  28,  181,  216,  254. 

'  Morning  Chronicle,'  328,  331. 

'Morning  Post,'  331. 

Morris,  121. 

Morton,  Rev.  C.,  1. 

Muir,  83,  84. 

Murphy,  Arthur,  231,  235,  237,  238. 


XTANDO,  268. 


Neal,  Mrs.,  21. 


26 


Nicholls,  John,  M.P.,  369,  380. 


402 


EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 


Norfolk,  Duke  of,  280,  332. 
Norton,  Mrs.,  25,  325. 


OAKES,  Colonel,  353. 
Ogle,  231. 
Oglethorpe,  General,  46. 
Old  Swinford,  4,  5. 
owing,  John,  65,  66,  72. 
Onslow,  T.,  306. 
Opie,  217,  327,  373. 
O'Quigley,  334. 
Overstone,  Lord,  33. 
Oxford,  Lady,  378. 
Lord,  332. 


PAINE,  Thomas,  103,  104, 152, 216, 
231,  254. 
Paley,  Dr.,  72. 
Palmer,  Rev.  Fyshe,  251. 

Roger,  263. 

Pamela,  215. 
Paradise,  272. 
Paris  in  1802,  374-392. 
Parker,  Captain  John,  29. 

Theodore,  29. 

Parr,  Dr.,  181,  182,  188,  193,   212, 

213,  215,  268,  272,  281,  329,  334  ; 

interview  with,  181 ;  on  *  Pleasures 

of  Memory,'  193-205. 
Parsons,  91,  231,  264,  275,  300,  301, 

303,  379,  381. 
Peach,  Mrs.,  13,  19  «. 
Peerless  Pool,  8,  10. 
Pennant,  Thomas,  17. 
Perigord,  125,  126,  128. 
Perrdgaux,  116. 
Perry,  328. 

P^trie,  114,  120,  121,  295. 
Pickbourne,  Rev.  J.,  15,  26. 
Pigou,  Mrs.,  368. 
Pinckerton,  235. 

Piozzi,  80,  81,  83,  85,  92,  148,  235. 
Mrs.,   80,  81,   82,    85,    91,  93, 

152,  162,  212,  297,  368. 
Pitt,  William,  118,  214, 268, 269,  279. 
'  Pizarro,'  348. 
Playfair,  Mr.,  83. 


*  Pleasures  of  Memory,'  185-209, 274- 
276,  310. 

Polwhele,  Rev.  R.,  276,  277,  346, 
347. 

Pope,  52,  337. 

Porson,  27,  216,  370. 

Portland,  Duke  of,  279. 

Price,  Dr.,  3,  7,  8,  15,  16,  18,  102, 
104,  105,  251,  265,  273,  278,  291 «.; 
his  influence,  7,  31 ;  his  works,  8, 
27-31 ;  stories  of,  7,  8,  30 ;  habits 
of,  8,  9;  his  white  horse,  30;  and 
Turgot,  31 ;  and  the  Corporation  of 
London,  30 ;  and  Congress,  31 ;  and 
France,  31;  at  Hackney,  31;  'On 
Love  of  Country,'  104 ;  and  Lafay- 
ette, 117 ;  his  simplicity,  152. 

Mrs.,  12,  16. 

Uvedale,  357  n. 

Priestley,  Dr.,  7,  28,  102,  105,  176, 
1T9,  180,  182,  212,  214,  215,  216, 
229-234,  240,  250,  251,  272,  273, 
274,  278. 

Joseph,  Jr.,  250. 

'  Pursuits  of  Literature,'  the,  336-338. 


"DABAUD,  M.,  115,  179. 

^    Radford,  Daniel,  1, 2,  3,  4, 5,  24. 

Eleanor,  2. 

Mary,  3,  6. 

Samuel,  2. 

Raikes,  Robert,  41. 
Raper,  11,  232,  343,  369. 

Harry,  11. 

Matthew,  11. 

Miss,  11,12. 

Rathbone,  W.,  M.  P.,  386. 
Raynal,  Abb^,  114. 
Recamier,  Madame,  378,  390. 
'Recollections,'  Rogers's,  144,   256, 

280,  329,  334,  393. 
Reed,  Isaac,  212,  345. 
Reid,  235. 

Rennell,  Major,  275. 
Reynolds  (dramatist),  263. 
Sir  J.,  81,  100,  152,  229,  270, 

272. 
Ricardo,  870. 


INDEX. 


403 


Richelieu,  Due  de,  84,  266. 

Kickards,  13. 

Samuel,  13. 

Robertson,  Dr.,  79,  80,  81,  83,  86,  98. 

Robinson,  John,  38,  39. 

Kochefoucauld,  Due  de  la,  115,  118, 
121,  123. 

Duchesse  de  la,  117, 121,  141. 

Roebuck,  Dr.,  145. 

Rogers,  Daniel,  6,  33,  35,  36,  71,  241, 
342. 

Henry,  6,  24,  74,  259,  260,  327, 

338,  340,  376,  382,  395. 

Maria,  6,  44,  260. 

Martha,  6,  40,  240. 

Mary,  6. 

Mary  R.,  6. 

Samuel,  ancestors,   1,   2,  3,   4, 

5,  6;  birth,  6;  first  letter,  14;  on 
his  mother,  22,  23;  would  be  a 
preacher,  32;  boyish  freak,  32; 
goes  to  business,  34;  and  Wilkes, 
35;  at  Margate,  42,  43;  'To  the 
Gnat,'  42;  studious  evenings,  44, 
45,  first  compositions,  46;  'The 
Scribbler,'  47-50;  calls  on  John- 
son, 46;  and  Gray's  poems,  51, 
52;  and  Walpole's  letters,  51; 
'Of  Myself,'  53,  54;  'a  banker 
poet,'  54,  55 ;  devotion  to  business, 
54;  first  poem,  55;  'Vintage  of 
Burgundy,'  56 ;  '  Alps  at  Day- 
break,' 57;  'Dear  is  my  little 
Native  Vale,'  57,  58;  'To  the 
Nightingale,'  58;  Love-song,  58; 
method  of  composition,  59;  'Ode 
to  Superstition,'  59,  60,  61,  62; 
'Captivity,'  63;  stanzas  at  mid- 
night, 63;  partnership,  65,  66;  on 
death  of  his  brother,  73 ;  journey  to 
north,  76-79;  at  Edinburgh,  79-96; 
journey  to  Paris,  101-131;  at  Ca- 
lais, 108;  at  Abbeville,  109;  at 
Amiens,  109 ;  at  Clermont,  111 ; 
at  Paris,  112 ;  journey  to  Brussels, 
134,  135 ;  view  of  French  Revolu- 
tion, 137;  conversation  at  Miss 
Williams's,  144-154;  journey  in 
South  Wales,   155-175;    letter  to 


his  father,  162 ;  '  On  a  Tear,' 
185;  'The  Pleasures  of  Memory,' 
185-209;  spoken  of  as  'the  poet,' 
10;  Diaiy  in  1792,  218-228;  jour- 
ney in  South  of  England,  229-235 ; 
Diary  of  1792  and  1793,  229-238; 
Commonplace  Book,  236-239 ;  turn- 
ing-point, 239 ;  death  of  his  father, 
240;  left  as  the  heir,  241;  and  R. 
Sharp,  242;  asked  for  money,  246, 
247;  and  Dr.  Priestley,  249;  sum- 
moned to  Privy  Council,  253;  at 
Stone's  trial,  253,  254;  writing 
'Epistle,' 255;  and  Mrs.  Siddons, 
256-259;  his  father's  advice,  259; 
letter  to  R.  Sharp,  262;  at  Mar- 
gate, 262;  Commonplace  Book,  265; 
letter  to  Dr.  Parr,  273;  verses  on 
him,  275;  accused  of  plagiarism, 
276;  letter  to  Sarah,  287;  letters 
to  R.  Sharp,  290,  294,  295,  300, 
301,  321,  344-357,  363;  why  never 
married,  297-300;  'Epistle  to  a 
Friend,'  310,  311;  'in  a  peck  of 
troubles,'  321;  deciding  on  re- 
moval, 327,  328;  mentioned  in 
'Pursuits  of  Literature,'  337;  and 
the  classics,  338-340;  at  Exmouth, 
340-355;  and  W.  Jackson,  349- 
352;  on  Melancholy,  358  n.;  visit 
to  Paris  (1802),  373;  letter  to  H. 
Rogers,  376;  letters  to  Maria 
Sharpe,  375,  379;  letter  to  Mrs. 
Greg,  386;  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fox, 
392,  393;  his  new  home,  393-395. 

Rogers,  Sarah,  6,  17,  76,  77,  260,  285, 
287,  288,  342,  376. 

T.  (grandfather),  4,  5,  22,  39. 

Thomas  (father),  his  marriage, 

5;  his  businesses,  6,  7;  his  children, 
6 ;  his  character,  9,  25,  26 ;  journey 
to  Scotland,  17  ;  his  politics,  25, 
240;  Coventry  election,  35-37;  let- 
ters, 45-47 ;  partnership,  65,  66; 
President  of  Hackney  College,  67; 
letters  from  Bath,  74,  75;  letter 
from  Stourbridge,  179,  180;  on 
Dr.  Priestley,  180;  his  death,  240; 
advice  to  Sam,  259. 


404 


EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 


Rogers,  Mrs.  T.  (mother),  9,  10;  let- 
ters, 10-21;  Diary,  21;  death,  23. 

Thomas,   Jr.   (brother),    6,   11, 

38,  39,  65,  66,  72,  73,  74. 

Roi,  Le,  233. 

Romilly,  S.,  370. 

Romney,  214,  232. 

Rougemont,  M.,  116.  « 

Rousseau,  131,  151,  265,  302,  303. 

Russell,  Lord  John,  240,  332. 

Ryland,  Dr.,  268. 


O  ADLER,  Rev.  Dr.,  32  n.,  69. 

^    Salm-Kirbourg,  Prince  de,  125  n. 

Salmon,  378. 

Scarlett,  370,  371. 

Schollet,  Mrs.,  302,  305. 

*  School  for  Scandal,'  267,  269. 

Scott,  Sir  W.,  46,  98. 

Seawell,  43. 

Seward,  147,  148,  149-153,  275. 

Seymour,  Lord  Webb,  331. 

Sharp,  Granville,  29. 

Richard,  107,  141,  217,  222  n., 

231,  240,  242,   243,  244,  245,  250, 

260-265,   272,  278,   289-296,  297- 

303,  318,  321,   322,  327,  344,  345, 

348,  352,  355,  363,  371. 
Sharpe,  Catharine,  217. 
Samuel,  25,  42,  50,  71,  74,  184, 

239,  308,  310,  327. 
Sutton,  214-218,  229,  232,  235, 

260,  281,  286,  310,  373. 
Mrs.  Sutton,  285,  327,  375,  379, 

382. 

William,  144,  217,  281,  329. 

Shee,  217,  373. 

Shelburne,  Lord,  18,  27,  215. 

Shenstone,  5,  274. 

Sheridan,  R.  B.,  102,  215,  236,  240, 

242,  256,  267,  269,  271,  278,  328, 

348. 

Mrs.,  351,  352. 

Sicard,  Abb^,  380,  390. 

Siddons,  Mrs.,  66,  151, 154,  232,  256- 

258,  357;  letters  from,  256-258. 
Siey^s,  Abbd,  150. 
Sillery,  Madame  de,  215. 


Smith,  Adam,  79,  81,  82,  83,  84,  97, 

98,  123,  146,  147. 

Robert,  370,  371. 

Svdnev,-244,  328,  371. 

William,  M.P.,  233,  281,   283, 

329,  354,  384,  390. 
Smollett,  Dr.,  90,  97.  . 
*  Soci^t^  des  Amis  de  la  Constitution,' 

127.- 
Solly,  Mrs.,  21. 
Southey,  R.,  102, 192,  254. 
South  Wales  in  1791,  155-175. 
Spencer,  271,  306. 
"Stamford,  Lord,  5,  259. 
Stanhope,  Lord,  102,  104, 123. 
Stanley,  Lord,  329. 
Staunton,  Sir  G.,  268. 
Steed,  16. 

Steevens,  George,  337,  345. 
Stoke  Newington,  1,  5.  ^ 

Chapel,  1,  26. 

Stone,  Miss,  343,  353. 

: William,    214,    252-254,    256, 

280. 
Stothard,  T.,  189,  217,  230,  231,  232, 

393. 
Stourbridge,  4,  5,  41. 
Strachan,  Sir  R.,  284. 
Sumner,  Charles,  394. 
Sunday  Schools,  41. 
Supping  Club,  7. 
Swift,  Mr.,  78. 


rr ALLIEN,  379. 
-*-     Tankervill?,  Lord,  367,  368. 
Tann,  74. 

Tenby  in  1791,  165-167. 
Tennant,  370. 
Tens,  du,  266. 
Thomson,  235. 
Thoresby,  Rev.  Mr.,  7. 
Thornton,  Bonnel,  268. 
Thrale,  Cecilia,  85,  91,  92,  212,  297, 
319,  367. 

the  Misses,  368. 

Mrs.,  297. 

Tickell,  Mrs.,  232. 
Ticknor,  99. 


INDEX. 


405 


Tieraey,  283,  329. 

Tooke,  Home,  214,  229,235,  240,242, 

253,  255,  256,  269;  278,  281,  282, 

286,  293,  332. 
Topham,  154. 
Torso,  Lines  to  the,  385. 
Toulouse,  Archbishop  of,  233. 
Towers,  Rev.  Dr.,  26. 
Towgood,  240,  342. 
Townley,  214. 
Travers  (surgeon),  373. 
Tuffin,  214,  229,  232,  235,  250,  280, 

301. 
Turgot,  31,  84,  233. 
Tweddle,  213. 


yALENTIA,  Lord,  19,  39,  40,  "259. 
'      Vaughan,  B.,  230. 

W.,  230. 

'  Vindiciae  GaUicae','  103,  264. 
Voltaire,  84,  151,  266. 


WAKEFIELD,  Rev.    Gilbert,   67, 
"      332, 333. 
Walpole,  331. 
Warburton,  Bishop,  365. 

Mrs.,  270. 

Warton,  J.,  266,  267,  268,  269,  312, 
313,  337. 

Thomas,  62,  210,  212. 

Wedgwood,  T.,  370. 
Welch,  George,  6,  65. 

Kemp,  65  n. 

Thomas,  6,  11. 


Welch  and  Rogers,  6. 

Welsh  peasantry  in  1791,  170,  171. 

Wesley  lying  in  state,  143. 

West,  Benjamin,  229,  373. 

West,  Raphael,  373. 

Westall,  R.,  189. 

Westminster  election,  281,  282. 

Westmoreland,  Lord,  279. 

Weston,  232,  264. 

Whitbread,  102,  240. 

White,  Miss,'  306. 

Whitworth,  Lord,  368. 

Wickes,  John,  4. 

Obadiah,  2,  4. 

Wilberforce,  283. 
Wilkes,  John,  35, 123,  270,  331. 
Wilkie  (author  of  '  Epigoniad  '),.145. 
Williams,  Cecilia,  69, 179.  ' 

Helen  .Maria,  68,  69,  138,  151, 

179. 
Wilson,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  11. 
Windham,  W.,  102,  286,  392. 
Wollstonecraft,  Marv,  26. 
Wordsworth,  W.,  21^  51,  60, 101, 102, 
137,  190, 191,  192,  207,  254,  255. 
World,  The,'  154,  185. 
Worthington,  Mary,  24,  259. 
Wren,  Sir  C,  270. 
Wyatt,  374. 


^EO,  E.  R.,  35,  37. 


7ELUCO,'  97,  138,  260. 


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